LOCKUP MY HEART
by later2nite
Summary: Justin serves time in the Pittsburgh County Jail, just happening to meet a certain correctional officer who isn't so bad. THIS STORY IS NOW COMPLETE! It was cowritten with me by my lovely writing partner, techgirl on ij.
1. Chapter 1

LOCKUP MY HEART - CHAPTER ONE

". . . and so, Mr. Taylor, in light of the fact that you have no criminal past and have kept yourself trouble free while out on bail, I hereby sentence you to six months incarceration in the Allegheny County Correctional Facility." District Judge John Dillman removed his reading glasses and massaged his right temple, peering at the clean-cut young man standing before him. "Would you like to make a statement at this time?"

"I . . . but . . . I've . . . No, Your Honor. I have no statement." Glancing over his shoulder for a brief moment, the guilty party eyed two women sitting together in the middle of the courtroom, his stomach tied up in knots at the sight of his mom quietly weeping and Daphne's arm around her shoulders in brave solidarity.

"Bailiff," Judge Dillman ordered, "you'll now remand Mr. Taylor into the custody of the Pennsylvania State Penal System."

Wrists promptly cuffed behind his back, the finality of the judge's banging gavel smarted in the condemned man's ears.

. . .

"How did this happen?" Jennifer sobbed to Daphne, both of them standing to catch one last glimpse of their loved one before he was led out of a side door. "I thought he'd get probation! He's not a violent person; this is so unjust!" Dabbing at her tear-stained cheeks with a wadded up tissue, she felt physically ill. Her only son. Serving jail time. Her brain simply refused to compute the stark realities of the next six months.

Taking hold of her arm, Daphne offered what comfort she could as they filed out into the corridor. "You heard his lawyer last week, Jen. Remember when he told us Dillman is notoriously hard on first-time offenders? We're fortunate he didn't hand down a much harsher sentence." Her head ached from the day's proceedings, yet she forced herself to be strong in the face of this heartbreak, standing tall as her best friend's mother leaned on her for support.

"Will you come with me to see him on visiting days, Daph?" Jennifer struggled to regain her composure.

"Of course! We'll go together every opportunity we have."

. . .

Justin Taylor stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison to the other seven miscreants who were herded with him toward an ugly gray bus parked behind the county courthouse.

"Pittsburgh Department of Corrections," one of them read from the side of it. "Must be our ride!" he laughed maniacally, throwing his head from side to side in true lunatic fashion.

"Shut the fuck up and get your ass on it!" a jailhouse guard yelled at him from behind the plodding group. "We don't have all goddamned day!" He shot his partner a disgusted eye roll, nodding at the back of Justin's head. "They're gonna love that ass downtown!"

Stepping onto the bus in a single file line, the eight handcuffed men spread out away from each other to sit, every one of them eyeballing the most neatly dressed, well-groomed one of the bunch. Noticing the obnoxious leers, Justin scrutinized the battered, worn-out interior of the vehicle and hurried onto the nearest available empty seat. Awkwardly sitting - because who the hell boards a bus with his hands bound behind his back and takes a seat in any other manner but awkwardly? - he was relieved to be out of the courthouse's vile holding cell, the stench he'd had to contend with while waiting to be transported almost more than he could stomach.

Seconds later, an older man plopped down beside him, rudely trespassing into his personal space. Justin inched away discreetly, trying like hell to avoid contact. Not that it helped much. He could still breathe the warmth of unwashed flesh, the smell overwhelmingly disgusting. So much for being freed from that reeking holding cell, he scoffed in his head, careful not to make eye contact with the walking pigpen - or anyone else for that matter.

'I fucked up.' Thinking of nothing else amid the din of chaotic shouts and curses, he lowered his head in despair. He'd never meant for his actions to end this way; this was never in the plan. 'God, I fucked up!' he berated himself over and over.

"Let me guess . . ." Pigpen tried to strike up a conversation with him. "Serial killer?"

Justin hastily looked out the window, only to feel something brush against his shoulder. Twisting his head even more, he couldn't believe it when a tongue stuck out and licked at his ear.

"There are so many things I'm gonna do to that ass of yours," a gravelly voice promised from behind. "I'll make sure we spend plenty of time together later."

Shuddering, he leaned forward to get away, cringing when a drop of spit landed on his neck. His patience had come to an end when The Licker burst into raucous laughter and his tongue once again swept across Justin's ear. Turning around in fury, a crazed look in the sick guy's eyes kept him from ranting his anger.

He silently sought out the guard who patrolled up and down the aisle as he passed, but the bastard averted his eyes the second they'd met with his, never even slowing his step. Not really wanting to ask for help anyway, at least not yet, he took a deep breath, the sobering fact that he was utterly on his own all he could think of.

By the time the bus had finally pulled into its space at the Pittsburgh County Jail, he'd had enough, leaping out of it as fast as possible despite all the jabbing elbows to his ribs. Desperate to quiet his frazzled nerves, he regarded the cold, uninviting building that would be his home for the next six months.

Fucking perfect.

. . .

Allegheny County Correctional Officer Brian A. Kinney stood near the window when his busload of pathetic misfits arrived, observing them pile out one by one. Recognizing a few repeat offenders from the previous times he'd had the pleasure of babysitting their law-breaking asses, his attention eventually landed on a fair-haired guy he'd never seen before - a guy so obviously pissed off that the correctional officer had to smile.

Enjoying the view, he realized the scowl on the young man's face as he cast his eyes straight ahead did nothing to mask his handsome features, his black and blue turtleneck and tight-fitting pants showing off a great body. He wondered what crime the well dressed convict could have committed to have landed his hot ass in the county lockup. Appropriating golf clubs and tennis rackets at Daddy's country club? he mused. Cheating on his SATs?

Officer Kinney's ogling was cut short, however, when two inmates in the corner suddenly started duking it out over whose turn it was to use the pay phone. "Jesus Christ!" he sighed, drawing his gun and tearing his eyes from the window. "Didn't your mothers ever teach you to share?"

. . .

"All right, shut up and listen!" the guard who'd driven the bus shouted gruffly at his eight passengers when they'd all entered the facility. "This is where you get strip-searched, showered, and issued a jailhouse uniform. Any illegal contraband you may be packing will be extracted and turned over to police detectives for investigation. Form a line starting here," he gestured to a closed door, "and get the fuck out of your clothes as soon as your handcuffs are removed. What are you waiting for?"

Justin managed to fall in at the end of the line and slowly undressed when his hands were finally released. His anger flared again when the others openly stared at him, his head pounding and his blood pressure rising.

. . .

Officer Kinney inspected the row of naked convicts and checked out their bodies purely as a reflex when they entered his cubicle, probing men's mouths and rectums for drugs ironically the least favorite aspect of his employment. Doing his job without thinking before sending each one away into the shower, his mind was preoccupied with things like his prior evening's trick at Babylon, the new club he was anxious to discover, and whether or not he'd show up at Deb's Sunday night dinner that week.

And then - the last convict in line appeared in his vision, Officer Kinney quite taken aback with his flawless milky-white nakedness. Smiling overtly, he was pleased to see Pissed Off Man up close and personal, his duties at the county jail decidedly more gratifying with perks such as these.

. . .

Justin scanned the small room as he was led through the open door, trying to take it all in. His darting eyes rested when they met up with a lanky guard's gaze: a guard whose job was to conduct a full-body cavity search on him, he quickly registered. Stopping in his tracks, the guard behind him shouted for him to move.

Officer Kinney waved him over, perceiving the precise second he'd started to emit less hostility. "Open up," he instructed, pointing to Justin's mouth as he stood in front of him and waited to be told what to do.

Taking hold of his chin, the guard tilted his head up and slid his thumb over his bottom lip, retracting it when Justin's tongue snaked out for just a moment, moistening it most daringly. Officer Kinney decided to take him up on his challenge when he saw the other guard walk out, pushing the tip of his thumb into the young man's mouth. Closing his eyes, he clearly enjoyed Justin's tongue swirling in circles and sucking on it.

"Turn around." Finally taking a step backward, the guard dusted his fingers softly down Justin's spine. "What's your name?"

"Justin Taylor."

"Brian Kinney." Leaning closer, his voice was low when his lips skimmed over Justin's ear. "You know I have to do this, right?"

Justin nodded, the guard's rubber glove snapping into place.

"Bend over," Brian whispered, pouring lube onto his gloved fingers.

Craning his neck around, Justin grinned as he opened his legs a bit and bent his upper body forward.

Brian took a good look at the ample ass in front of him, wishing he'd met it at Babylon instead of the Pittsburgh County Jail. Images of what he could do with it and its owner flashed before his eyes, his cock swelling in his briefs. Gliding his index finger down its crack, he rubbed slowly around its rim a few times before gently sliding inside, a sound emanating from Justin that went straight to his dick, causing it to get harder.

Glancing up to insure they were still alone, Brian slid his finger even further inside. Careful not to hurt him, he would have loved to have had all the time in the world to play with Justin's perfect ass. It was so tight, so hot, and, Brian couldn't help but notice, Justin didn't mind having it explored.

Bending his finger, he grazed over Justin's prostate, a quiet moan filling his ears. When he did it again, Justin pushed back against him. Setting a steady rhythm, Brian laid his other hand on Justin's hip and added a second finger inside of him, Justin starting to slowly writhe under his touch. He could have listened to his groans of pleasure for hours, but he was forced to pull out when he heard voices outside the door. Removing the rubber glove, he caressed Justin's back for a moment before the young man stood up.

"Impressive," Brian quipped, his eyes falling to Justin's rock hard cock.

Justin nodded as Brian adjusted himself, the wet spot on the front of his pants impossible to miss.

Brian cleared his throat. "Go take a shower."

"Will you join me?"

"No, but I'll watch."

. . .

Justin walked toward an empty shower stall, as far away from the others as he could get. Not wanting to call attention to himself, he turned his back to them and stood under the tepid spray, taking his time to soap up. Closing his eyes, he ran his hand over his head, happy to feel his hair with some length on it again. He desired absolutely nothing more than to leave the whole Pink Posse debacle behind him.

"What are you doing in here?" one of the guards rasped, interrupting his thoughts. "Don't you go on break after digging around in their asses?"

Looking around, Justin understood that the question was aimed at Brian, who'd been leaning against the doorjamb with his eyes intently fixed on him.

Brian shrugged. "Just thought you guys could use some help."

Justin intercepted Brian's fixated look, deliberately slowing down his movements. Taking more soap in his hands, he lathered his chest, stopping for a time to pinch his nipples. The corners of his mouth turned slightly upward as Brian came closer to him, his eyes following Justin's every move. Justin read from them with ease that he'd give anything to be able to undress and join him in the shower - even though inmates were denied the luxury of hot water.

Leisurely washing his stomach, Justin finally lowered his hands to his crotch, rubbing over his balls and inner thighs. Tugging on his cock a few times, he broke into a full-fledged smile when Brian licked his lips and the bulge in his pants grew bigger.

"Okay, that's enough," Brian warned as soon as the other men had received their prison uniforms and moved into the next room. "Come here," he directed, holding a towel out toward Justin after he'd hurriedly rinsed and stepped out of the stall.

Brian patted Justin's face and hair first, dropping the towel to his chest, over his hips, and around to his back as he crept closer. Looking into his lustful eyes, he gripped onto Justin's hard shaft and slowly stroked his cock.

Letting out an audible sigh, Justin leaned farther into Brian's hand, his own fingers finding their way to his dick. "Can I?" he whispered, cupping it through Brian's pants after he'd nodded his permission, rubbing it at the same pace Brian was using on him.

Tilting their foreheads together, they breathed heavily, electricity palpably sparking between them. Justin wet his lips with his tongue just as Brian bent down, mere inches separating their mouths.

"Dry yourself off!" Officer Kinney abruptly advised his charge, the door to the shower room jolting them apart when it swung open with a squeak. Brian practically jumped backward, instantly creating an appropriate space between them as Justin wisely used the towel to conceal his erection.

Neither of them could refrain from laughing when the intruding guard had turned and walked out after completing a fast once-over of the area and spotting Justin, claiming he'd been afraid they'd had an escape when he'd counted only seven dressed new inmates ready to be shown to their cells.

Brian's hands roamed over Justin's body one last time. "You need to get dressed," he told him in all seriousness, reaching onto a shelf across from the showers and pressing a drab uniform into his arms.

Slipping into it, Justin listened while Brian explained what would happen next and what to expect on his first day locked up. "I can't believe I'm actually here . . . in jail," he uttered softly, not waiting for Brian to finish.

"Was it worth it?"

"What?"

"Whatever you did to land in here."

Justin shook his head. "Probably not, but it was something I had to do." Starting toward the door, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"You'll be fine. Just don't let them get to you."

"Thanks." Justin smiled faintly. He wondered what it would take to have Brian guard him exclusively - twenty-four/seven. "Later," he said under his breath, joining the others in the next room.

"Later," Officer Kinney mouthed back.


	2. Chapter 2

LOCKUP MY HEART - CHAPTER TWO

"I'm sorry, Daphne. I thought I was prepared for the possibility of Justin getting jail time. I didn't mean to fall apart like that." Jennifer willed her tears away when they threatened to make a comeback, touching up her lipstick in the vanity mirror on the visor instead. "God! Six months! I don't -"

"Jen, stop. Please." Daphne pulled her car out of the county courthouse parking lot into the late afternoon traffic, taking charge of the situation. "Dillman's an asshole. Pardon my French, but we're just gonna have to deal. That's all we can do." Briefly taking her eyes from the road, she looked over at Justin's mom and attempted to smile. "It's gonna be tough. The apartment's gonna be so quiet without him. But we'll get through it together, okay?"

Jennifer actually dared to believe she and Daph might help each other cope with the devastating turn of events. "Okay," she nodded.

"I'm gonna check online to get the visiting schedule as soon as we get home. We'll go see him this weekend. We've got to stay positive." Ironically, a tear welled in the corner of Daphne's eye at that precise moment, a quick brush of her hand banishing it away. "Otherwise, we'll never make it."

. . .

"So . . . do I have to sleep with my back against the wall or something? Just tell me if I do, 'cause it's not a problem."

"Huh?" Justin squinted into the darkness as his cellmate climbed onto his bunk, a thin beam shining through the bars of their cell door from the guard station down the hall providing the only light in the tiny space. "Excuse me?"

"Just thought I'd ask. I've heard the rap, you know. It's all over this joint that you're gay."

"Are you gay?"

"Hell, no!"

"Then you're safe. You have nothing to worry about." Almost lashing out in ridicule, Justin decided to change courses, his basically polite nature winning out. "Oh, and I've been meaning to ask you . . . how the fuck do you stand it in here?"

His cellmate visibly relaxed. "I'm Eric, by the way," he laughed, throwing aside his flimsy, threadbare blanket and lounging as comfortably as possible on the lumpy pad the county jail had the nerve to call a mattress. "I just had to get that out there on your first night locked up with me. I don't give a shit what you are. And this . . . this . . . eight by eight dungeon," he waved an arm disgustedly around their dingy cracker box, "just becomes Home, Crap, Home after awhile."

"God!" Justin scoffed. "Good thing I'm not claustrophobic. And what's up with all the gray? Are these people color-blind? I'm Justin and I am gay, but I don't give a shit that you're straight, so I guess we're even." He plopped down on his own lumpy pad, curious as to where his tattered blanket might be. "Um, where's . . . uh . . ."

"They're short on blankets. Word is, this cell block won't get any more until February." Eric stretched out and emitted a long yawn, relieved that his new cellmate was cool.

Justin fell backward, staring at the ceiling. It was a dull gray, of course. "Fuck. Me." Dragging the back of his forearm across his face, he fought a dark depression for control of his brain. "Just an expression," he mumbled in afterthought.

. . .

"Get up!" Eric kicked at Justin's foot as it dangled over the side of his bunk. "It's almost time for breakfast."

Still half asleep, Justin's face was buried into his much-too-thin pillow. "What time does the restaurant open?" he muttered.

Eric snorted. "Chow hall."

"Huh?"

"Chow hall, not restaurant. And they'll come to get us in fifteen minutes."

"But -"

"No," Eric cut him off. "If you're not up and dressed, there'll be hell to pay."

Justin slowly sat up. "Thanks for helping me out."

"I remember my first day in here. I was fucking terrified. So many rules and codes. It's complicated."

Hurrying into his ash gray uniform shirt and standard-issue jailhouse blue jeans, the same clamor he'd heard the night before soon filled Justin's ears. Random yelling and cursing from various inmates and guards shouting to shut them up mingled with the sounds of heavy metal locks clanging open and iron-barred doors slamming closed. There was no way to block it all out.

"Get in the line!" Eric warned, pushing him through the opening as soon as their cell was unlocked from the outside.

Justin took his place behind his cellmate in the line to the chow hall, his stomach starting to grumble in hunger. Judging from the smell wafting through the corridors, though, they weren't serving anything worth waiting for. It made him miss cooking for Daphne in their apartment, trying like hell but unable to remember what their last meal together had been.

Inching along, he was careful to keep to himself, yet he had to take a quick step forward when someone bumped into him from behind. Only seconds later, a push into the small of his back forced him to stumble into the guy ahead of him. Justin mumbled a flustered apology, nervously checking around for the guards.

He spotted Brian standing in the corner, a look in his eyes indicating he'd been tracking him the whole time. Just as the corners of Justin's mouth twitched upward in response, he felt someone's fingers settle on his hips and dig in sharply. Gasping out in pain, he turned around, quickly recognizing The Licker from the previous day's bus ride. "What the fuck?!" he started, but before he knew what hit him he was knocked to the ground.

Brian reacted immediately, materializing in front of the scuffle with his night stick held high. Forcing the asshole away from Justin with striking blows to his wrists, he growled, "Don't even think about hurting him," to the inmates who'd closed in.

"Why do you care?" several voices taunted him at once. "Are you fucking him?"

Pulling Justin up from the floor, Brian dragged him away from the others, ignoring their laughter. "Stand still," he hissed, returning to break up the mob. When The Licker shouted that his arm was broken, Brian roared right back, "It's not broken! Do you want fucking chow, or should I take you back to your cell?"

Glaring at Brian, the unruly prisoner rejoined the line.

"Didn't I tell you to stay out of trouble?" Brian had made his way back over to a shaken up Justin.

"I didn't do anything!"

"I know, I know," Brian nodded, trying to calm himself down. "You have to learn who to stay away from."

Justin stared at him. "How the hell am I supposed to know who to trust?! You have no idea how confusing this is!"

Brian could hear his desperation. "Stop queening out. I'll tell you who to stay away from."

"Thank you." Justin grinned widely.

Brian bent closer to him. "Don't look so fucking smug."

"I'm sorry, sir." Justin licked his lips, blinking slowly.

Brian shook his head. "You're fucking dangerous," he couldn't help letting out, smiling at the innocent look in Justin's eyes. "You need to go back," he said, pushing him gently towards the chow line.

. . .

"I'm fucking serious, Parker! You gotta get me outta here! The Licker's stalking me. They're short on blankets until February. Everything's gray. And . . . and . . . the food is called chow! Fucking chow. Can you believe that?" Justin paused to catch his breath, the pay phone receiver in his hand the only link to the outside world he'd had in the past twenty-four hours. He knew he wouldn't be allowed the privilege again for another week.

The voice on the other end advised him to just do his time with no trouble as there was nothing more he could do for him post sentencing. He was about to bring up how doing so might get him out early for good behavior, although Justin was more interested in raving than listening.

"What about indentured servitude?" he picked right back up with a vengeance. "I've already emptied every bank account I had for your defense retainer, but I swear to Christ I'll clerk for you for free until I'm 80. I'll mop your floors. Don't your kids need a nanny?" Seeing that Brian hovered all ears a few feet away did nothing to curb his major meltdown; he was on a roll.

"I'll talk to you next week, Parker," Justin finally started to wrap things up. "Work on it, okay? Please? I'll go mental if you leave me in here!" he shuddered at the thought.

"Don't hang up." Brian rubbed his palm over his mouth, deliberately muffling the directive.

Wrinkling his forehead in confusion, Justin kept the receiver to his ear. "Why? He . . . he already hu-"

"Don't hang up," Brian repeated, moving a little closer to the corner where the jail's pay phone was located. He'd been on 'Communications Patrol' for the past two hours, which essentially meant eavesdropping on each inmate's outbound call, insuring that he wasn't making a drug deal with his connection or ordering a hit on the warden with his ties to Organized Crime. "Just keep talking as if you've still got him on the line. Your attorney, I presume?"

"Yeah. Parker McClain. I need him to get me the fuck out of here."

"Where do you think you are?" Brian snickered. "Alcatraz? This is fucking county jail. No one does more than a year in here. You're not some homicidal maniac on your way to the federal penitentiary to serve two life sentences." He paused and raised an eyebrow, surprising himself by just how much he cared if that last statement were true or not. "Are you?" he blurted out, fixing an oblique stare directly onto the side of Justin's face.

Justin shook his head, not quite sure whether he wanted to laugh or cry. "I guess it's not homicide if you don't pull the trigger. But you're still a criminal if you decide to avenge the wrongs you've had to endure for years," he said into the dead phone line. "Well, I admit Petty Larceny of a Firearm and Assault don't look good on your arrest record. Apparently, they kind of fuck up your chances of having the charges dropped. Dillman gave me six months."

"Dickwad Dillman?" Brian covertly checked around for unwanted eyes and ears. "He'd send his grandmother to jail. Listen. I'm gonna bring you out of this common area, okay? Just go along with my lead." Drawing his billy club out of his belt, he watched Justin play along by plastering a disgruntled look on his face.

"Okay, Taylor, that's enough outside communication for one week," Brian spoke out clearly and rather harshly, now practically inviting any nosy parties who might be interested in his activities to take notice. He placed a hand on Justin's shoulder as he hung up the phone, steering him from behind toward his cell block.

"Are you gonna hit me with that thing?" Justin mumbled under his breath after a few paces, his discontented airs quickly evaporating. "Because I can think of a few other uses it might be good for. Just saying . . ." His brashness caught Brian by surprise at first, but soon served to open the door for a frank discussion, both men seeming to implicitly trust the other.

"I don't know," Brian spoke a bit freer as they turned a corner and started down a long hallway out of earshot from everyone else. "If you have no qualms about ripping off a deadly weapon, I should probably think twice before going all corporal on you." He smiled broadly, and even though Justin couldn't see it, he welcomed the gesture of friendship he absorbed in Brian's tone. "You mentioned righting the wrongs you'd dealt with for years? Sounds like you were fighting for your dignity. And maybe your sanity, too?"

"What was left of my sanity," Justin didn't mind explaining. "A classmate of mine bullied me all through high school, making my life a living hell. When I ran into him by chance years later, he'd evidently graduated from the bullying phase, prodding me into a fistfight out in front of a bar I was leaving. He shoved me around a few times to bait me, goading me into fighting him. I'd never hit anyone in my life before that, but I was so pissed off I just started swinging at him." Turning around to face Brian, Justin sensed their prisoner and guard dynamic giving way to something else. Allies against injustice? he wondered. Equal members of humanity? He saw something in Brian's eyes that encouraged him to go on.

"I'd had a few beers, and I just shouted out to the guys with him how he'd let me jerk him off one time back when we were in school . . . how much he'd loved it. Christ! It was like he went ballistic! He whooped my ass right there on the street. It was over before I knew what the fuck had happened. He and his friends walked off, leaving me a bloody, banged up mess. I even have a few scars near my hairline where his ring lacerated my scalp."

"I saw them when you were in the shower yesterday. Figured you'd tell me about it when you were ready. The one under your chin is pretty gnarly. His vicious uppercut?"

"Yeah. I didn't stand a chance. I'm not exactly your standard Mike Tyson-type." Justin found himself quietly laughing as they neared the end of the hall, the first time since he'd been pronounced guilty of his crimes - long before his sentencing - that anything had sounded even remotely funny to him.

Brian smiled again, too, not so much because he found Justin's story humorous, but because it felt good to see him unafraid and devoid of anger. The same demeanor he'd slipped into the previous day when things had turned steamy after his almost cold shower, Brian thought. He ventured this was Justin's natural personality - what he was like before he'd been arrested. Before he'd become imprisoned in the Pennsylvania Department of Corrections.

"Justin, victims don't get six months in county jail," he pried further into the situation, "perpetrators do. The gun?" he flat-out asked. "The theft?" Brian took an enormous key ring from his pocket and unlocked the door to the guard station past Justin's cell. Glancing around stealthily, he swept his charge inside and hurriedly closed the door. "I'm not passing judgement on you," he kept talking. "My job is to keep order in this zoo. But I'm really fucking curious. From where I stand, I don't see a thief . . . or a weapon-toting criminal . . . or a threat to inflict substantial bodily harm on anyone." He stood face-to-face with Justin in the cramped room, the symbolism of what an ordeal he made out of tucking his night stick back into his belt not lost on either of them.

Justin looked away, the desk up against the wall in the corner suddenly the most fascinating piece of furniture he'd ever laid eyes on. "I'm not proud of what I did, you know?" he said softly after several seconds of hesitation. "Brian, he beat me to a pulp and got away with it scot-free. It took months for me to recover - physically and mentally. These scars you can see aren't the only ones I had to cope with. My head was messed up for a long time." He paused again, looking back at Brian as he dredged up the painful past. "The six-shooter was my father's. I'd gone over to his house to talk to him about making good on the back child support payments he owed my mom for my little sister. I didn't think I was stealing the fucking thing. I knew he kept it in his nightstand drawer. When he excused himself to take a phone call, I went into his bedroom and borrowed it."

"I get that." Brian's hand crept toward Justin's. His fingers latched on loosely at first, gradually closing around it.

"I needed it to join this vigilante group that I'd wanted into so badly. I wasn't fooling myself, though. I knew from the start that I was going to use it to scare the shit out of Hobbs. Literally." Justin kind of laughed again, Brian gently squeezing his hand. "Revenge," he went on. "I just wanted him to feel the fear I'd felt when he was using me as his human punching bag. To feel defenseless. To feel like the breath he'd just taken might be his last. That's all I'd felt the entire time he was beating me up."

"So you hunted him down like prey, chasing the closure that pointing the gun at him would give you?" Brian wasn't entirely convinced he wouldn't have done the same in similar circumstances.

Justin blinked slowly. He'd come clean on every detail so far. He saw no reason to shy away from the grand finale. "I made him get down on his knees at my feet and open his mouth. Then I forced the revolver between his lips and demanded that he suck on it. It was like my alter ego took over and wasn't satisfied until my enemy was sobbing like a little girl. I felt ruthless. I felt powerful. I felt even. Like I'd finally tied the score in our ongoing battle," he confessed, winding his free arm around Brian's waist.

"Kinky," Brian simply said, truly not passing judgement on the actions of a young man who'd been bullied for years and who'd actually been the assault victim first - if you wanted to get technical. He ran his fingers through Justin's hair, flinching slightly when he found the scar next to his ear. Tracing it with the tip of his index finger, he continued down to his throat, feeling the one under his chin. He tried not to think about how much pain Justin must have been in over the last couple of months, not just from the beating.

Brian's hand landed on Justin's chest. Stroking over his nipples, he pinched them just hard enough to make him squirm. Bending down, he licked over his lips, smiling when Justin opened up and let him inside. The kiss was long and drawn out, the time spent with tongues exploring each other's mouths and hands getting to know their bodies.

Justin's lips were red and swollen when he parted them from Brian's for a second to look at him. "You taste great," he whispered, stepping closer and pulling Brian's head down again. "Take me," he mumbled, sealing their lips back together as he worked on the buttons of Brian's shirt. Finally undoing them, he separated his t-shirt from his pants and sighed when he felt the warm skin under his fingers. "Please."

Gripping Justin's hip bones, Brian rubbed their crotches together, groaning at the sensation of Justin's hard cock against his. "God, I want you." Fumbling with the prison uniform that stood in his way, he deepened the kiss and scraped their dicks together harder.

Justin lowered his mouth to Brian's chest, his tongue brushing downward to the muscles on his hard stomach in a long swipe. He smiled when Brian shuddered in response, creeping his hands around him and running them over his smooth back. He'd missed feeling another man under his fingers, having someone react to his touch. Slowly removing Brian's shirt, Justin was just about to pull his t-shirt over his head when the door opened unexpectedly.

"Shit!" he hissed, taking a step backward and scrambling to collect himself.

Brian yanked his tee back down.

"Kinney, what are you doing?" another guard asked, his eyes darting between them.

Brian shrugged. "Talking."

"Talking? In here? You know you're not supposed to talk to the inmates."

"And you're not supposed to sell them cigarettes," Brian calmly retorted.

The guard turned and stomped out with an exasperated huff. "Fuck off!"

"Will he be a problem?" Justin asked.

"Williams? No, don't worry about him." Brian grabbed his wrist and dragged him close again. "But we have to be careful not to get caught," he said softly, nuzzling Justin's neck.

Justin nodded, a breathy gasp escaping when Brian plunged his tongue back inside of his mouth, kissing him roughly before letting him go.

. . .

Eric observed with a smile as Guard Kinney unlocked the door to his cell, depositing his cellmate back where he belonged. He heard him murmur a 'later' before turning and rapidly heading away. Within five minutes, though, he was back.

Justin was dumbfounded when Brian unlocked the cell again and dropped a blanket on the foot of his bed. He tried to thank him, but Brian walked out, relocking the cell and hurrying away.

"So, you're already dating the hot gay guard?" Eric grinned when Justin blushed and denied it. "What did you have to do to get a fresh blanket?"

"Shut up!" Justin muttered, yet he couldn't help but laugh when Eric asked if it might be worth it for him to turn gay to get some benefits of his own in the hell hole they called home. "We didn't do anything. Well, we did some, but we got interrupted by another guard. And I didn't do anything to get benefits. I just wanted to get laid."

"Instead, he gave you a blanket. He must really love you." Eric ducked when a shirt came flying his way.

"You won't rat us out, will you?" Justin got serious. "It was probably just a one-time thing . . . or, I guess you could call it a two-time thing. Please don't say anything."

"I won't. But . . . two times?! For someone who's only been in here one day, you've really managed to get around."

"I have not! It was just . . . yesterday . . . the intake process . . . one thing led to another . . ."

. . .

"You made it!" Justin laughed, the sight of his mom and Daphne on the other side of the glass a pleasant surprise. "You guys came to see me after only one week? That's so great!"

"How are you, honey?" Jennifer needed to know. "I've been so worried about you. But you look . . ."

Daphne touched the barrier that separated her best friend from her, wishing more than anything she could give him a hug. "You look . . . um . . . better than I expected." She smiled when Justin put his open hand opposite hers, even though the thick slab of glass prevented any real contact. "So how's life on the inside?" she tried to make light of the situation.

"It sucks, but, uh, I guess it could be a lot worse." Justin shrugged. "I'm kind of getting used to it now."

Jennifer studied her son thoroughly. Seeing him and hearing his upbeat voice, she realized, did help to ease the fears she'd been having about his well-being. "It's so good to see you, Justin," she sighed, relaxing for the first time in a week. "You really do look okay. I'm relieved."

"I am okay, Mom. You don't have to worry about me."

"But gray sure isn't your color!" Daphne didn't hesitate to point out. "I'd go crazy looking at everyone in that uniform all day long!"

"You don't know the half of it," Justin rolled his eyes. "Don't get me started."

The fifteen minutes he was allowed with his visitors passed quickly, Jennifer and Daphne somewhat less frantic about the following six months at the end of it than they'd been before they'd talked to him. Happily, their good-byes were stress-free and tearless when a tall, nice looking corrections officer informed them their time was up.

"You ladies have a good day, now," Brian heard himself say, smiling at them as he courteously held the door open. One thought raced through his mind when he made eye contact with the prisoner they were leaving.

'I had a feeling you were going to be dangerous.'


	3. Chapter 3

LOCKUP MY HEART - CHAPTER THREE

Brian checked over his shoulder, discreetly unlocking Justin's cell. "Get out."

Justin's head shot up from the paperback novel he was reading. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked, alarmed at the tone in Brian's voice.

"How the fuck should I know? Just put your shoes on . . . and hurry up."

"You're already in jail," Eric told Justin. "How much worse can it get?" He looked over at Brian, but the guard's vision remained averted from both men.

Justin glared at his cellmate, wiggling into his shoes. "Brian, you're scaring me," he said as he walked out. "You must know something. Anything."

Waiting till they rounded the corner at the end of the cellblock, Brian ran a hand through Justin's hair. "Calm down. You didn't do anything. I just wanted to get you out of there."

"Oh, yeah?"

He shrugged and pulled Justin into the guards' break room, locking the door behind them. "I need to fuck you," he got to the point, backing him up against the wall. Rubbing his hardening cock against Justin's crotch, he kissed his mouth.

"You need to fuck me?" Justin laughed. "Couldn't you have just said so? You scared the hell out of me!"

Brian slid two fingers into his mouth to shut him up. "Suck on them."

No longer laughing, something changed in Justin's posture. He looked Brian in the eyes when his tongue swirled around his fingers, moaning at how rough they felt against the roof of his mouth.

Bending forward, Brian licked at Justin's lips as they stretched around his fingers. Then he slowly retracted them and stabbed his tongue inside instead. His hands grazed over Justin's chest, down to the button on his jeans.

Justin tried to stop him. "Are you sure no one will interrupt us?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Brian continued to undo his jeans, not satisfied until they'd fallen down to his feet. "This corridor is closed for the weekend. All the guards are upstairs."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Justin unbuttoned Brian's shirt with trembling fingers.

"Are you nervous?" Brian grinned.

"No. Horny as hell. You have no idea how long it's been." Ripping his shirt open, Justin backed up to admire Brian's body. "Fuck, you're hot."

Brian laughed, drawing him close again. "What do you want?"

"Ride you. Hard."

Groaning at the thought, Brian dropped his pants and stepped out of them, lying on the couch in the corner. "Go for it," he said, placing a couple of condoms next to himself.

Justin left his jeans in a heap on the floor and followed him. Stroking his cock, he swiped up a drop of precum as it leaked out and sucked it off his fingers. Leaning down, he kissed Brian to share before he opened his legs and sat between them. He bent his neck forward and licked at the head of Brian's long cock until it dripped with his saliva, finally swallowing him down to the hilt.

"Feels fucking great," Brian muttered, his hands in Justin's hair urging him on. He pushed his hips upward, slowly fucking his mouth as Justin stroked himself faster and faster.

Brian smiled at him when he started to pant heavily. "You're not gonna last, are you?"

"No way."

"Come here." Pulling him up to straddle his chest, Brian opened his mouth and took his cock down into the back of his throat, sucking him off until Justin came in long ropes with a shout.

Afterward, Justin sat back and relaxed, circling his fingers over Brian's nipples, pinching and licking them. "That was unbelievably good," he sighed, his sated dick starting to soften. When he felt Brian rub his cock against the small of his back and drag the wet head down his crack, he inched backward, reaching behind himself. Justin firmly kneaded Brian's hard cock a few times and then turned around to roll a condom down his shaft. He smiled when a tube of lube appeared from between the cushions. Lifting up a bit, Brian smeared the lube over his hole to ready him.

"God, you're fucking tight," Brian growled, nudging a finger inside Justin's ass. Carefully stretching him open, he added another one, noticing his cock rising again. He pulled his fingers out and took a hold of his own cock, watching Justin slowly sink down onto it.

"Aaah."

"Are you okay?"

Justin laughed. "It hurts like hell."

"Relax." Brian pulled his ass cheeks apart, rubbing around his rim.

Justin exhaled and sank lower. Steadying his breathing as Brian's cock filled him, the pain subsided when he started to rock back and forth, Brian's hands on his hips setting the pace.

Jamming his tongue between Justin's lips, Brian kissed him roughly. "Fucking hot!" he cried out when Justin slammed down hard on him.

Shuddering with pleasure, Justin savored every second. The taste of Brian's mouth, his smell, and how his own hands felt on Brian's smooth skin heightened all his senses. He plunged himself downward over and over, angling his body so that Brian's huge cock would ram into his prostate. Feeling as if he were about to shoot again, he sat up, speeding his movements. "I'm gonna cum," he huffed breathlessly.

Brian nodded. "Me, too. Come with me, Justin." He leaned up a little just as Justin bent forward, their lips meeting the instant they both came. Holding onto each other tightly, they enjoyed the sensation together.

"That was great!" Justin giggled, lying next to Brian with their bodies still entwined.

Brian pulled him even closer, nuzzling his neck and licking along his jaw. "Amazing," he whispered, kissing him again.

Justin's fingers roamed over Brian's chest, soon finding their way down to his cock. He stroked it lazily and then moved down to his balls, holding them in his hand. He felt Brian stiffen when his fingertip brushed lightly over his scar, and then he heard him breathe easier when it was clear that he'd stopped himself from asking about it. Spontaneously taking Brian's semi-erect cock in his mouth, he licked it clean, more than pleased when he started to writhe under his touch.

Slowly pulling away, Justin lay on his back and spread his legs, his ass up in the air. "Take me, Brian. Fuck me," he almost begged.

Brian reached for a new condom, back in Justin's ass again without any preparation at all, bottoming out on the first thrust. He held still for a time right there, until Justin's heels digging into his back sent him moving again. Wanting him to feel it for days, he fucked him fast and hard.

. . .

"What time is it?" Justin asked, not able to stifle a gaping yawn.

Brian checked his watch. "Four hours till you have to get up," he said quietly, unlocking the cell door.

"Great." Justin's mouth formed a drowsy smile, his skin tingling when Brian's fingers skimmed over his neck one last time.

"Are you alright?" Eric asked, waking despite the hushed sounds.

"Sure. I'm fine." Crashing on his bunk, Justin covered himself contentedly with his new blanket. "Thanks," he mumbled, falling into the most restful sleep he'd had since taking up residence in Home, Crap, Home.

. . .

"Kinney."

"Williams." Giving a slight nod in his coworker's direction, Brian was anxious to get back on duty before anyone got wise to his disappearance.

"Having fun with Pretty Boy?" Guard Williams cocked his head to one side, Brian catching a distinct smirk on his face.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. And don't waste your time denying it. I saw you walking him back to his cell as if you two were strolling down Lover's Lane. I knew it wouldn't take you long to get into that ass of his."

"Look, Williams . . ." Brian stalled for time, no fucking clue coming to him to explain his way out of his predicament. "It's not what you think," he grasped at the trite excuse.

"It's not? Then why don't you tell me what it is, huh? First I find both of you in the guard station down the hall from his cell all cozy together, and now this?"

Brian stood a little taller, determined to get the upper hand. "Hey, I thought we were cool," he started. "I keep quiet about your cigarette business, which I know nets you almost as much as your weekly salary, and you look the other way when I talk to -"

"Talk?" Williams laughed out loud. "You gotta be shitting me. You and that hunky guy are fucking. After tonight, I know you are."

Freezing in his tracks for just a moment, Brian realized he'd found his angle, his intuition kicking in at what he'd just heard. "Hunky guy? Williams, you just called an inmate a hunky guy." Continuing down the corridor to make it to his next post on time, he was certain he'd have company on the way.

"I . . . didn't mean that." Keeping step with Brian's brisk gait, the guard nervously tried to backtrack. "I, um, I meant . . ." he stammered, having a tough time stating his case.

Brian shook his head. "Williams, you sly old dog. Isn't anybody straight anymore?"

. . .

Eric roused Justin in time to dress and get in the chow line. "What the fuck?!" he yelled, his eyes wide with disbelief when his cellmate stood and stretched.

"What?" Justin looked around, wondering what was up.

"This!" Eric touched his arm. "And that!" He pointed his shoulder. "What the hell did they do to you last night?"

"Stop shouting, will you?" Justin poked at the bruises with his fingertips. "It's nothing."

"Nothing? You call this nothing?"

"You don't understand. It's the good kind of bruising. I was with Brian last night."

Eric stared at him in a fog.

Justin raised his eyebrows. "I was with Brian last night," he repeated.

"Finally!"

. . .

Justin wandered around the yard, trying to make the most of his hour of 'freedom.' He stuck to himself, largely unnoticed by the various different groups of prisoners as he started to walk the perimeter of the area, figuring the exercise could only do him good. Just as the thought occurred to him that his fellow inmates seemed relatively harmless, he rounded a particularly surly bunch whose only form of exercise seemed to be standing around trading obscenities with each other.

Justin instinctively picked up his pace, sensing trouble when every one of the foulmouthed creeps fell silent at the sight of him. Just as he'd feared, though, he hit the ground in the next second, several feet kicking him in the back and stomach. He felt his lip split open with a searing pain when a fist slugged him in the face, blood instantly spurting down his chin. Unfortunately, he realized, he didn't manage to curl into the fetal position and protect his head with his hands until after the next blow landed squarely above his left eye socket.

Bracing for the next strike, Justin was relieved when it didn't happen. Almost as quickly as the attack had begun, it was over, three prison guards separating the deadly mob at gunpoint. Taking his time uncovering his head, Justin squinted upward into Brian's worried face.

"Are you okay!?"

Closing his eyes again, he tried to assess his condition, a strong pair of arms helping him up before he could formulate an answer.

"Can you stand?"

Justin leaned against Brian's chest, Brian's arms steadying him on his feet.

"I keep telling you to stay out of trouble."

"Sorry."

"Sorry's bullshit. What happened?"

"I just walked by."

"Well, you're new. Sometimes, that's all it takes."

"Was it The Licker?"

Brian laughed. "Who?"

"The same guy who pushed me down in the chow hall."

"That asshole? Yeah, he was one of them," Brian told him. "He's already joined one of the worst gangs in here."

"He's had it out for me for weeks. He sat behind me on the bus from the courthouse, licking my ear. Oh, yeah. He was making a checklist of all the things he wanted to do to my ass."

"Lovely," Brian winced, sneaking a peek at The Licker from behind as the line of thugs trudged back into the building to their cells under the supervision of the other guards and their still-drawn weapons. He made a mental note to deal with him later. "Come on. Let's get you to the infirmary."

. . .

"I have to leave you here," Brian said, turning his battered charge over to the jail's medical staff.

Justin held his stomach, doubled over in pain. "Okay."

"Does it hurt?"

"It's killing me. But not as much as my head. Is it really bad?" He touched his face carefully.

"Not too bad. You'll probably end up with a nice shiner, and your lip is split. The bleeding's stopped, though," Brian looked on the bright side. "I have to get back on duty. You'll be fine."

Justin nodded as Brian turned to leave, grateful for the wheelchair the nurse parked behind him. Gingerly sitting down, every bone in his body ached.

"You've got to be x-rayed to check for internal injuries," she said crisply, whisking him out of the intake area.

Spending almost two hours in radiology, Justin hoped to God that the seriously outdated equipment wasn't emitting more harmful rays than allowable by law. Then he had to laugh, as painful as it was, having learned all too well of late that the Pittsburgh County Jail operated under its own set of laws. When he was finally wheeled to a bed in the corner of the medical ward, he slept like a baby.

. . .

"Hi."

Justin blinked a few times, groggily registering Brian's voice in his ear. Trying to sit up before he realized where he was, he sighed and fell back onto the pillow. "You're here," he groaned, turning his head to find Brian in a chair next to him. "What time is it?"

"Six a.m. How are you feeling?"

Trying to smile, the pain in his lip stopped him. "Worse than yesterday," he moaned feebly.

"The X-rays look good," Brian reported. "Nothing broken. Just some nasty gashes and bruises." He squeezed Justin's hand when no one was looking. "Your lip will heal just fine."

"What about my eye?"

"It's awfully swollen, and you've got some interesting colors going on there. But it'll heal, too."

"I really need to piss."

"Sure." Brian carefully helped him out of bed and over to the bathroom. "You'll be okay in there by yourself?"

"Want to hold it for me?" Justin raised his good eyebrow at him.

Brian leaned in closer. "You have no idea how much I want to hold it," he whispered, "and jerk it . . . and suck it." Rubbing Justin's crotch, the bulge in his cotton hospital pants filled his palm.

"Stop!" Justin joked. "It hurts to laugh. And you'll get me hard."

Brian waited outside the restroom, helping him back into bed. "I have to go home and get some sleep before my next shift."

"You've been here long?"

"All night."

"Brian."

Brian brushed his hand over Justin's cheek. "No big deal," he shrugged. "They said they'll keep you here one more night to treat the cuts."

"Good!" Justin smiled, quickly recoiling at the stretch in his lip. "This bed is comfortable and the cover is thick," he said, burrowing down under it. "Reminds me of home. I wonder what Daphne's doing right now."

"Daphne?"

"My best friend. I've known her forever. We share living expenses in a nice apartment. God, it seems like a lifetime since I've been there." Justin closed his eyes. If he tried hard enough, the bed in the infirmary almost felt like his own.

"Go back to sleep," Brian whispered. "Later."

"Later," Justin mumbled, dreams of home flooding his mind.

. . .

"Kinney."

"Williams."

"How's Pretty Boy? I heard what happened. The gang got to him out in the yard?"

Brian halted his step as he left the infirmary, covering a gaping yawn with the inside of his elbow. "Yeah. The fuckers beat him before we could break it up. Nothing permanent. He'll be okay."

"You look like shit. Long night?" the guard asked. "Sitting at his bedside?"

"Um hm. What's it to you, anyway? What are you? The F.B.I.?" Brian scraped a hand over his day-old beard, too tired to do battle.

"Hey, I get it." Williams lowered his voice, mindful of their surroundings. "You're attracted to him. How could you not be? Pretty Boy's damn . . . pretty." He paused to check for unwanted eyes or ears before revealing the scenario he'd been dreaming of. "I was thinking that we could, um, share. After he heals, of course. What do you think?"

"Share?" Brian wasn't quite sure what delusions of grandeur this guy had conjured up. "Listen, Williams . . ." he spoke slowly and methodically. "What's your first name?"

"Doug."

"Listen, Williams . . . Pretty Boy has a name, too. It's Justin. If I hear you call him Pretty Boy one more time, I'm gonna lose it. And furthermore, I do not share my . . . there will be no sharing of Justin. Got it?"

Williams looked as if he'd been fatally wounded. "I just thought-"

"Well, you thought wrong," Brian fired back. "But . . . you know what?" His features softened, a rudimentary plan taking shape in his sleep-deprived brain. "Walk with me, Williams."

. . .

"Hey, you're alive!" Eric was happy to see Justin the next morning when he was escorted back to the cell. "How was it? Was the food any better over there?"

"The same. But the bed was wonderful, and it was quiet at night. No yelling at all."

Eric sighed. "Sounds like heaven."

. . .

"Oh my God! Justin!" Daphne removed her sunglasses, hoping to awaken from the nightmare she was obviously having. "What are they doing to you in there? What the hell happened?" She placed her hand flat against the glass partition that separated Justin from her just as she'd done the first time she'd visited, comforted a tiny bit when he reciprocated from his side.

"Shh!" he warned. "Calm down, Daph. I'm new. It happens."

"It happens?" she shrieked. "What? You get hazed like you're pledging a fraternity or something?! Justin, you've got a black eye . . . and so many bruises. I hope you reported this to the proper authorities. This is police brutality. I mean-"

"I know it's a shock for you to see me like this," he interrupted her, motioning for her to sit as he took a seat on the wooden chair. "First of all, there's no police in here. The warden is in charge, and the guards keep order. A prison gang decided to initiate me into life in the county jail, just as they do with all new inmates. Makes them feel superior, you know?"

Daphne's outrage became less vocal, yet her emotions were still running amok. Nodding in understanding, she couldn't stop the tears from welling up in her eyes.

"Brian, um, the guards pulled them off of me before they had a chance to inflict any lasting damage. It looks a lot worse than it is," Justin tried to gloss over the incident - for Daphne's sake. "The bruising will go away and I'll be good as new. You'll see." He forced a smile, even though his lip was still tender.

"I miss you so much," she whispered, fat droplets streaming down her cheeks.

Justin willed himself to stay in control. "I miss you, too, Daph. You know what I keep trying to remember?"

"What?" She wiped her face with the back of her hand.

"That last night before my sentencing. What did we have for dinner?"

"You made beef stroganoff. We finished the whole platter."

"Ah, that's right!" Justin closed his eyes and imagined his mouth watering creation simmering on the stove. "God, I'm craving that. Daphne, they're gonna take me back in a minute. Don't worry about me, okay?" He leaned very close to the small opening in the glass they'd been talking through, lowering his voice to barely audible range. "There's a really nice guard in here who's kind of looking out for me. Keep that to yourself, though. That's privileged information."

Daphne nodded compliance, standing when she saw Justin getting up from his chair.

"I gotta go." Justin gestured to the guard approaching him from behind. "It was so great seeing you, Daph. Remember . . . no worrying," he tacked on just before the guard told him to leave the visiting area.

Turning to exit, Daphne grabbed her purse and headed away from the glass she was starting to hate.

"Let me get that for you."

Tilting her head upward, she recognized the same guard who'd held the door open the last time she'd been to visit with Jennifer. He was opening it again, a smile lighting up his handsome face.

"Thanks," she smiled back.

"You're Daphne, right?"

"Yeah, but how do you kn-?"

Brian bent down close to her ear. "He's mentioned you. Can you meet me at the Liberty Diner in two hours? I'll get off duty as soon as I attend to some lunchtime business."

"Yeah, I can meet you there. Brian," Daphne added, reading his name from the I.D. badge he wore above his shirt pocket. "He's mentioned you, too."

. . .

Justin stood as close to Eric in the chow line as he possibly could, the fear of walking around alone wreaking havoc in his head.

"You know I can't protect you if they come after you again."

Sizing up Eric's all but muscular body, Justin exhaled loudly. "I guess you can't."

"But you have Guard Kinney for that."

"He's here?"

Eric nodded towards Brian, who paced back and forth in front of the table where The Licker sat, idly rapping his billy club against his open palm with a fixed stare on the target of his wrath.

Finding a table on the opposite side of the room, Justin took a seat with his back to the wall. His eyes scanned the chow hall a few times before he relaxed and dug into the watery soup they called lunch.

. . .

Daphne scouted around the diner searching for Brian, finally slipping into a booth opposite him as he read the newspaper. After a moment of awkwardness, they eased into a surprisingly smooth rapport.

"You're Justin's best friend," Brian started.

Daphne nodded, still not sure why she was there.

"He misses you."

"I miss him, too," her voice broke, the pain of seeing Justin earlier that day causing a fresh batch of tears to fall from her eyes.

Handing her a napkin, Brian waited till she'd dabbed at the moisture before he went on. "I know he wants you to visit, but the waterworks kind of . . . make it hard for him. Maybe you could try to . . ."

"I'm sorry," Daphne sniffled. "It was just so horrible to see him like that. I know that stuff goes on in jail, but I never thought it would happen to Justin."

Brian handed her another napkin. "It looks worse than it is."

"The gang. Will they get any -?"

"What'll it be?" Debbie appeared out of nowhere, tapping her pen on her order pad.

Daphne swiped the napkin across her cheeks, drying her tears. "Nothing for me, thanks. I'm fine."

"Are you crying, honey?" Deb asked the girl she'd never seen before. Then she turned her attention to Brian. "What the hell did you do to her?!"

"I didn't do anything!"

"You expect me to believe that?" she shook her head. "You probably let her think you were straight, waiting till she'd fallen in love with you before you told her you're the fucking Stud of Liberty Avenue, didn't you?"

"No! It's not like that at all!" Daphne cut in, trying to calm the furious redheaded woman down. "In fact, he's been nothing but nice to me," she said, glancing over at Brian.

"Really? Well, he's got a big heart." Deb patted Brian's shoulder and left them alone.

Daphne's eyebrows arched in curiosity. "Who's that?" she wondered, listening to Debbie's animated banter with the guys in the next booth.

"My best friend's mother. I practically grew up at her house."

"She's interesting."

"You have no idea how interesting she can be."

Feeling a bit better, Daphne went back to the subject at hand. "Will they get some kind of punishment? The gang, I mean. For what they did to Justin?"

"Nothing," Brian sighed. "It was just a fight."

"Just a fight?! He looks like a train hit him!"

"Believe me; I know. I wish it had never happened, but it did. The important thing is he's fine. That's all that matters."

"But, still . . ."

"Listen, Daphne. Are you listening?" Brian leaned toward her as she nodded. "Justin's been in there for a month already. He only has five more to go. That's nothing in that world. If he reports getting beaten, those assholes will make his life a living hell. It's just not worth it. I know it's fucked up, but that's our reality."

"That is fucked up." Collecting herself, she decided it was time to get with the program. "But you're gonna look after him, right? Make sure it never happens again?"

Brian answered truthfully. "I'm trying, but I can't be there all the time. I'm already working more hours than I should be."

"Thank you." Daphne smiled for the first time that day. "That's all I'm asking. And thanks for talking to me. It helped." She squeezed his hand affectionately. "You like him, don't you."

Shrugging noncommittally, he sipped his coffee.

"I'm glad you do. He's a great guy. And really hot," she giggled. "And . . . he's single."

Brian glared at her. "I don't do boyfriends."

"You might change your mind, once you really get to know him."

Safely silent, he knew she might not be entirely wrong.

Daphne reached into her bag. "Can you give him something for me?"

"Depends."

She held out a sketchbook and some pencils. "I brought these from home. Can you?"

Brian thumbed through its blank pages.

"God!" Daphne rolled her eyes. "I haven't hidden some secret message in it."

"Force of habit."

"That's okay. Just doing your job, huh?" Smiling again, she rose to leave. "Brian, thanks for talking to me. I get the feeling Justin's gonna make it through this. That we all are."

"No big deal. It's hell to have someone you care about in jail. I guess I'll see you on visiting day next week?"

"Not me. It'll be his mom next time. We're going to alternate weeks so he'll always have one of us there."

"Okay. In two weeks, then." Brian grinned. "Later, Daphne."

"Later."

. . .

"So, who's the girl?" Debbie's knack for popping up unexpectedly was uncanny.

Brian took a deep breath. "Sit down."


	4. Chapter 4

LOCKUP MY HEART - CHAPTER FOUR

"Taylor! You don't get your hour of freedom today!" Brian barked, unlocking the cell and letting Eric out.

Stepping back inside, Justin sank down on his bunk. "Oh, okay." He picked at his jeans with one hand and ran the other through his hair, noticing it had grown a little bit longer.

Brian hated that he didn't put up a fight or even ask why, overseeing the other prisoners into a straight line before ushering them out to the yard. "Williams! Can you keep an eye on them? I've gotta do something."

"Don't you mean someone?" Williams winked at him.

"I wish," Brian muttered under his breath, taking long, quick strides back towards Justin's cell.

. . .

"Hi."

Justin smiled when he saw Brian through the bars, standing outside his cell door.

Hesitating for a second, Brian bit on his lip. "Can I come in, or would you rather be alone?"

"Of course, you can come in. You have the keys, so you don't need an invite. But thanks for asking." Justin slid over to the side of his bunk, making space for Brian to sit down next to him. He leaned in, burying his face in Brian's neck and inhaling his scent.

"Are you okay?" Brian whispered, entwining their fingers together.

"Yeah. No." Justin sighed and started over again. "My friend Daphne was here a couple of days ago. She was so upset and so sad. It suddenly hit me that it's not just my life I fucked up. She's my best friend, my roommate, the one who's always been there for me . . . and this is what I do to her?" Slowly shaking his head, he stared at the floor. "And my family - all fucked up because of me. I saw the look on my mother's face when the judge sent me to jail. I can never make that okay."

"Are you queening out again?" Brian tried humor, hugging Justin tightly nonetheless.

"No! I ruined everything and everyone, and now I have to live with it."

"She's fine, Justin. Daphne is fine."

His head snapped up. "How do you know?"

"I talked to her at the Liberty Diner that same day she was here."

"But how? Why?"

"I saw her as she left the visitor's area. I asked her to meet me later."

"You went on a date with my best friend?"

"Shut up! I could tell she was upset. All this is hard to take in when you're on the outside. She had some questions; I answered them. End of story."

Nestling even closer to Brian, Justin enjoyed the touch of another human being, the warmth of his body. "You talked to her and calmed her down? If you're not careful, I'll fall in love with you."

"Don't even joke about that." Brian frowned. "I don't do love." He handed over the stuff Daphne had left for him. "She asked me to give you these."

Justin's eyes glittered. "Am I allowed to keep them?"

"Yes, you are. Just don't paper cut yourself to death."

Flipping the sketch pad open, Justin picked out a pencil, producing a quick drawing of Daphne minutes later.

"You're pretty good at that."

"I hope so! It's what I do for a living."

"You're an artist?"

"Yeah. I own an illustrating company."

"What do you illustrate?"

"Anything my clients ask for. Mostly ads, but before I ended up here, I'd just finished illustrating a children's book." Justin turned the page and drew a picture of a child holding a balloon. "I wonder how many clients I'll have left after this?" he added bleakly.

"Don't think about that now."

"I was so fucking stupid, Brian! Joining a vigilante gang is not me. Hell, I'm not even a people person. I risked everything by hunting Chris Hobbs down like that, and I lost it all . . . just to get back at a fucking bully."

"He was more than a bully. He could have killed you."

"I know. But still, I fucked up. "

"And in five months you'll be out of here, free to start all over, to build a new life." Brian kissed him deeply, shifting so Justin could sit between his legs and lean back against his chest. "Tell me more about your company."

Justin brightened a little, happy to talk of his life before incarceration. "I graduated from PIFA and tried to support myself as an artist for a while. Even though I sell a painting every now and then, I can't live off of it, so I decided to start my own company. I did whatever my clients wanted from me, and it turned out I really love working that way. I never know what my next job will be, and that's kind of exciting."

"What do you like doing the best?"

"Well, ads are interesting. I get to find a way to make people notice them and to look at a product in a new way. But illustrating is pure fun. I set my fantasy free and just draw whatever comes to me, which I love."

"I'm happy you've found something you like doing," Brian said, hastily jumping up when they heard nearby cell doors opening and slamming shut. He gave Justin a quick peck on the forehead and let himself out.

Justin stayed on his bunk, scribbling Brian's name a couple of times on a clean page in his sketch pad before he realized what he was doing and erased it.

. . .

"Excuse me, Miss?" Daphne breezed into the diner at nine in the morning, combing every booth for her favorite Pittsburgh County Jail corrections officer. "Have you seen Brian?" she asked a pretty raven-haired waitress, who was ringing up a customer on his way out.

"Brian? Brian Kinney?" The waitress looked up from the cash register. "He comes in every morning at seven-thirty for breakfast. I'm afraid you've missed him."

"Okay, thanks," Daphne said, struck by the prettiest eyes she'd ever seen. She gave the waitress a warm smile and turned to leave, only to be stopped by a friendly, vaguely familiar voice.

"Hi, Daphne!" Debbie spotted her as she walked out of the kitchen. "Don't you want to sit down and have a bite to eat, honey?"

"Oh, no, thanks. I'm in a hurry. I was hoping to catch Brian. I'll get here earlier tomorrow to talk to him."

"Brian . . ." Debbie nodded, smacking her gum. "Quite a change for him to be attracting women now," she laughed. "His reputation's gonna be shot all to hell pretty soon."

Daphne laughed, too. "It's just that he's been so nice to me. And to Ju - I mean with the current situation and everything. I wanted to ask him a few more questions about, uhm, things." Stopping herself from going into too much detail, she was grateful to Debbie for not prying.

Debbie had been drawn to the story from the moment Brian had clued her in, an absolutely brilliant idea descending upon her from out of the blue. "You know, I think you'd enjoy Sunday dinner, Daphne. Would you like to join us?"

"Sunday dinner?"

"At my house. I make a big Italian meal for Brian and Michael every week. The rest of their friends always seem to show up, too. It's become something of a ritual. You'll love it!"

Daphne felt slightly trapped by the larger-than-life woman she'd met only recently, yet she sensed the sentiment was heartfelt. "Okay. When you put it like that, I guess I can't decline. Thank you, Debbie."

"Sunday dinner at the Novotny's?!" the other waitress exclaimed. "I've been waiting for my invitation for years. I wouldn't pass that up if I were you!"

"I won't," Daphne grinned at her. "I've really gotta get going now, but I wanted to say that I love your eye shadow. It's a great color on you." She thanked Debbie one more time as she turned to hurry out of the diner.

"Lovely girl." Kiki primped a bit with her perfectly rolled pageboy. "Just lovely!"

. . .

"Hey, asshole! Get up!" Guard Williams clanged his billy club on the bars of The Licker's cell, unlocking it and barging in at 2:45 in the morning. "GET THE FUCK UP!" he screamed into the sleeping man's ear, shaking him harshly until he stood beside his bunk in a dazed panic.

Expecting a natural disaster to strike at any minute, The Licker reached for his jeans. "Where's the fire?"

"No fire. Put your clothes down and follow me. NOW!" the guard shouted again.

"What about me?" The Licker's cellmate bolted out of his bunk. "You're gonna let me die in here?"

Guard Williams couldn't help but laugh. "Go back to sleep. You're not gonna die. You," he said to The Licker. "MOVE!"

"But . . . my clothes . . . where're we - "

"Shut the fuck up and get in there." Williams opened the door to the guard station's private men's room after leading his underwear-clad charge down the long corridor. He handed him a toothbrush and a can of Ajax cleanser, pointing down to the filthy floor. "Get to work," he ordered. "I want that thing spick-and-span by daybreak!"

. . .

Justin tried to catch Brian's attention all during breakfast, needing him so fucking badly he thought he'd explode.

"What are you doing?" Eric whispered to him. "Eat or they'll take your tray away and haul you back to the cell."

Forcing himself to take a bite, Justin's eyes darted up every other moment to seek out Brian's. When they finally made contact, he raised his eyebrows, only hoping that Brian would decipher his secret code.

Thankfully, Brian suddenly found it necessary to patrol the aisle in front of Justin and Eric's table, halting his step directly across from them. "Problem?"

Eric hung his head and dug into his powdered eggs, Justin waiting till Brian looked him in the eyes before he slowly lowered his hand down to his lap and rubbed his fingers over his cock.

Eyes widening, Brian only needed a half of a second to get on board, reaching out and grabbing Justin by the arms. "If you're not eating, you might as well go back to your cell!" he bellowed, roughly dragging him up from the bench seat and manhandling him out of the chow hall.

Slick, Eric thought, the other inmates and guards not even bothering to tear themselves away from their fake runny eggs and peacekeeping duties to waste their time on an incident that occurred at least once every meal.

. . .

Unlocking the door to a tiny supply closet, Brian pushed Justin through it and sneaked in behind him, relocking it from the inside. "Ten minutes," he smiled, glimpsing at his watch. "Use them well."

Justin beamed, pulling Brian's face down for a kiss before he dropped to his knees and undid his pants in one fluid movement.

Leaning against the wall, Brian spread his legs a bit, laughing softly as Justin buried his face in his crotch. He tangled his fingers around Justin's hair and urged him on when he quickly pulled out his already semi-erect cock, licking over its head and taking it in down to the hilt a few times before stopping to unzip his own jeans. "Fuck! You're really horny," Brian whispered when Justin whipped out his rock-hard dick dripping with precum.

Justin looked up at him and nodded, using one hand on his own cock with a fast, steady rhythm and the other one to put Brian's dick back into his mouth. Running his tongue up and down the shaft, he stabbed it into the slit, enjoying the sounds Brian made. Justin moaned loudly when he tasted the beads of precum leak out onto his tongue, snapping his hips up and pushing his cock through his hand harder and faster.

Lowering his eyes in time to see Justin coming all over his fingers, Brian saw him pause for a second and then swallow around his cock several times. He kept his hands on Justin's head to hold himself still while he jerked and shot hard down his throat.

"Seven minutes," Brian panted. "Impressive!"

Justin laughed, straightening his clothes. "Thanks."

Brian wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly. "God, I wish I had hours to fuck you." He nibbled on his ear. "And suck you." He licked the cum from his hand. "Rim you till you beg me to take you." His hands crept down to Justin's ass, fingers digging into the flesh. Rubbing their dicks together till they started to get hard again, he mumbled, "I'll find a way. Soon, I promise," into his ear before letting him go.

Barely cracking the door open, he scoped out the corridor to ensure it was empty, hurriedly walking Justin back to his cell and returning to the chow hall before anyone missed him.

. . .

"Fuck! Williams, you've been looking at that ugly fatass in his underwear all night? Down on his hands and knees?" Brian peeked into the men's room briefly to see his machinations in action, turning back to his coworker in the guard station. "Nice addition to the plan!" he laughed, clapping Williams on the back good-naturedly. "What time did you get him up?"

"Just before three. Every time he tries to fall asleep on the floor, I slam the door and startle the shit out of him."

"Excellent. Thanks for taking the night shift. Why don't you get some sleep in the break room? I'll take it from here," Brian told him, deciding to offer one more kindness. "I'll cover your lunch shift, too. I don't mind working a few extra hours."

Williams picked up his jacket, heading for the door. "Thanks, Brian. I can use a few hours of shut-eye. So I'll see you tonight?" he called on his way out.

"Yeah. Ten o'clock. Side door. I'll be there."

. . .

"I'm sorry Debbie made you drive me," Daphne apologized to Brian. "I kept telling her I could get there by myself, but she just wouldn't listen."

"It's no big deal."

"Who's going to be there?"

"Deb's partner, Carl; Mikey – he's Deb's son, and my best friend – and his husband, Ben; and probably our friends Emmett and Ted."

"Slow down!" Daphne yelled suddenly.

"What the fuck?!" Brian checked the speedometer. "I'm not speeding."

"Slow down and look to your left." Daphne pointed out the window. "See that guy on the sidewalk over by the blue car?"

"Yeah, why?" Brian eyed him as they slowly drove by. "Someone you like?"

Daphne ignored the senseless question. "It's Chris. Chris Hobbs."

"Fuck!" Brian stopped at the corner, stealing a good look at the man who was getting into his car, restraining himself with every ounce of energy he possessed from running across the street and taking him out.

. . .

"Everyone, this is Brian's friend Daphne," Deb introduced her to the hungry guests around the table.

Daphne smiled, waving at them before she sat down.

"So, sweetie," Emmett was the first to welcome her, "how do you know big bad Brian?"

Hesitating uneasily, Daphne wished she and Brian had talked their story over before arriving. "I, uhm, met him at work. His work. We started to, uh, talk. And then I met Deb, and . . ." her voice trailed off.

Brian grinned at her. "Daphne's best friend is doing time, and I met her when she visited him. We had coffee at the diner, Deb met her, and now she's here. Let's eat!"

Debbie's kitchen grew eerily quiet for about thirty seconds, then the questions rained in rapid-fire succession from everyone all at once. Daphne peered helplessly at Brian, who stared at his plate in silence.

"For Christ's sake!" Debbie yelled. "Brian is fucking her best friend. His name's Justin. He's got to do five more months, then he'll be a free man. Now can we eat?" She banged the pots down in the middle of the table, plopping onto her chair in a huff.

The others looked at each other quizzically for a couple of minutes, holding their tongues.

"So, you're fucking an inmate?" Emmett finally ventured.

Brian shrugged, helping himself to Debbie's homemade pasta.

"Is he even gay?" Mikey asked.

"Of course, he's gay!" Brian glared at him.

Taking a deep breath, Daphne sensed the genuine affection behind all the inquiries pouring from Brian's friends. Each of them listened intently when she felt comfortable enough to lay her fork down and calmly start in on Justin's plight, explaining how he'd stolen his dad's gun and used it to threaten the man who'd beat him to near death.

"He joined a vigilante gang?" Ted perked up. "That's kind of cool."

"Really, Schmidt? I've never thought of you as the gang member type," Brian sneered, Ted clamming up on the spot.

Emmett whispered something that made Ted laugh, then he smiled at Brian. "Justin sounds hot. And brave. He's your perfect match!"

"Brian doesn't do perfect matches," Michael reminded everyone.

Ben threw an arm around Michael. "Don't say that. People find their soul mates when they least expect it." He kissed the side of his husband's face, Michael snuggling closer to him.

"Perfect matches? Soul mates? Have you all turned into lesbians?" Brian shook his head and finished up his meal, leaving the table to lean against the counter.

Following Brian, Carl excused himself and placed his dish in the sink. "He sounds like a great guy," he said. "Like someone who was ultimately pushed over the edge. Stupid thing to do, though, joining a gang to get back at his nemesis."

"Believe me," Brian nodded, "he knows."

"Just don't get yourself into trouble for . . . uhm . . . well . . ." Carl stopped himself, unable to put the rest into words.

"Screwing? Banging? Fucking?"

"Ahem," he coughed. "Yes. For doing that at work."

"Don't worry, I've got it covered," Brian told him. "Carl, can I ask you a favor? That guy who beat him up - his name is Hobbs. Chris Hobbs. Do you think you can you dig around . . . try to find something on him? Anything that would make his life less worth living."

"Brian, you know I can't do that."

"I'm not asking you to do anything illegal. Just . . . maybe keep an eye out. Something's bound to pop up. He's a menace to society." Brian thanked Carl in advance for any dirt he might possibly uncover and gave him what little information he'd learned about Hobbs from Justin and Daphne: his address, where he worked, the hours he kept. Then he dragged Mikey outside with him for a smoke.

"Is he special?" Michael asked, his eyes locked on Brian's.

Brian was quiet for a long time. "He's not a trick."

"Oh." Mikey felt a little pang in his heart, yet he kept a pleasant face and squeezed Brian's arm. "I'm happy we both have someone!"

"I don't have him. We're just fucking."

Mikey patted Brian's back with a knowing expression, changing the subject to his comic book store.

. . .

"Thanks for having me!" Daphne hugged Debbie and smiled at Carl. "This was really nice. I miss having someone to eat with. Justin always cooked for us."

"He can cook?" Emmett sighed dramatically. "I think I'm in love."

Brian gave Deb a quick good-bye kiss and slipped back into his black leather jacket. "I'm going to Babylon later," he told the guys, fishing for his car keys in his pocket. "Anyone else?"

"Haven't been rejected by a cute young twink since last night," Ted tossed off. "Wouldn't dare miss the opportunity again tonight."

"Oh, Teddy! You never know. You may meet someone totally new tonight," Emmett said. "I'll help you look."

Michael and Ben shared a laugh. "Okay," Mikey said. "We're there, too!"

. . .

"I don't know, Brian. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I mean, it sounds awfully loud in there."

"Of course, it's loud in there. It's a club. A dance club." Brian lit a cigarette on the steps leading to Babylon's side door, showing up a few minutes after ten. "You do dance, don't you, Williams?"

"Damnit! I knew this wasn't a good idea. I'll just see you tomorrow at work."

Brian caught his arm as he turned to leave. "Whoa! Don't let that scare you off. I can't dance for shit either. Fortunately, plenty of other activities take place in this hallowed den of iniquity. Drinking, for instance. Fucking . . ." He blew a long plume of smoke into the night air. "You do drink and fuck, don't you, Williams?"

"Uh . . . it's been awhile."

"Jesus Christ! Come on!" Pushing his way through a crowded Babylon with an awed newcomer at his side, Brian realized his scheme to get Williams laid might have been a tad overambitious. "The night's young," he sighed. "Let's start at the bar."

Williams took in the scenery around him, enjoying the sight of half-naked boys and men dancing and flirting with each other despite his lack of confidence. He'd had a few monogamous relationships in the past, but the one-night stand thing that was obviously protocol in the meat market he'd just entered put him a bit on the edgy side. "I could use a drink. Kind of nervous, you know?"

"Nothing a stiff shot of Jim Beam can't take care of," Brian assured him, ordering two from his favorite bartender. Clinking their glasses lightly, they threw back a hearty gulp. "Better?" Brian grinned when Williams started to loosen up.

"That's good shit."

"Never fails to do the trick. Speaking of which . . ." Brian turned and made a sweeping arm gesture in the general direction of the dance floor, nearly taking Emmett's head off in the process as he and Ted approached the bar at that very moment.

Emmett ducked just in time. "Hi, Brian! Good thing I'm agile. And quick."

"Well, stop sneaking the fuck up on me," Brian complained, as if the noise level in the thumping club had nothing to do with it. "This is Emmett and Ted," he said to Williams. "This is Williams, you guys. A friend of mine from work."

Ted shook hands with him. "Ah, the Pittsburgh County Lockup. How are things down at the jail these days?"

Williams exchanged glances with Brian. "Pretty messed up, if you're a prisoner," he said.

"I actually love to be locked up. Tied down. Imprisoned . . . as long as it's with the right guy," Emmett chimed in, a seductive eyebrow raise added for effect as he inched his way between Williams and Ted with an unmistakable agenda. "So, honey . . ." he turned on the southern charm full blast, "do you have a first name? I don't believe Brian's ever mentioned you before." Giving Williams a thorough once-over, Emmett batted his mascara-coated lashes.

"Um . . . Doug?" Williams self-consciously questioned his own first name. Then, "Hi, Emmett. My name's Doug," found its way out of his mouth a little more surely.

"Well, Doug, why don't you finish up that drink and you and I do a little dancing?" Emmett smiled sweetly, his eyes never leaving Doug's, even when he added, "Where've you been hiding him, Brian?"

Brian and Ted made snorting sounds. Doug drained his glass and plunked it down on the bar, not objecting to being pulled by the hand onto the dance floor by Brian's flamboyant friend.

"Here we go," Ted exhaled audibly, rolling his eyes.

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Take it easy on him, Emmylou," he called after the disappearing pair. "He's . . . out of practice?"


	5. Chapter 5

LOCKUP MY HEART - CHAPTER FIVE

"Okay, Taylor. You know the drill. Fifteen minutes."

Justin nodded at the guard who'd seen him to the visitor's area, already craning his neck in search of his mom on the other side of the glass partition.

"Hi, honey," Jennifer said flatly when he sat down, Justin easily reading the sadness in her tone.

"It's good to see you, Mom," he tried to lift her spirits. "How's Molly? I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I actually miss her." Grinning when she reminded him - in lengthy detail - of all the times he'd wanted to strangle his little sister, Justin was happy he'd diverted his mom's melancholy mood, finally seizing an opportunity to steer the small talk into something more serious. "I'm glad you came," he started. "I need to talk to you."

"I know what happened. Daphne told me."

Running a hand through his hair, he glanced at the ticking clock on the adjacent wall. "Oh, that? Don't worry. I'm all healed up now. I don't have much time, but I wanted to-"

"You do look good, and that makes me feel better. I just wish you could come home."

"Mom, I've gotta tell you something," Justin persisted. "I met someone in here. I don't know how I'd survive the time I have to do without him. He makes it bearable."

Jennifer's eyes widened in surprise, her mind settling itself in the most logical place. "Your cellmate?"

"Eric? He's a nice guy. Well, if you overlook his habit of passing bad checks. Did you know that bouncing rubber checks is punishable by law?" Justin laughed. He'd been astonished to learn the sheer number of fraudulent financial dealings his cellmate had transacted back when they'd confessed their crimes to each other, the paper trail finally catching up with Eric and leading to his arrest. "But . . . no, it's not him," Justin told his mom, looking over his shoulder. Leaning close to the glass, he lowered his voice. "The guy I met isn't an inmate. He's . . ."

"Who?" Jennifer asked, her face scrunching into one huge question mark.

"Well, the thing is-"

"That's it, Taylor. Time's up." His glorified babysitter stepped out of the corner and approached him from behind, Justin way beyond aggravated.

"God! I'd like to see him try to tell his mother something important in fifteen minutes!" he popped off, his chair screeching out from under him when he stood.

Rising at the same time, Jennifer was more puzzled than ever.

Justin spoke rapidly through the hole in the glass before he was led away. "Ask Daphne, Mom. She can explain it!"

Seething inside, his gaze shot sullenly downward on the escorted walk back to his cell. About halfway through the long corridor, though, he heard footsteps nearing them from the opposite direction, his anger dissipating rapidly as he raised his eyes.

Poker face expertly in place, another guard was careful not to break form, especially when his shoulder brusquely bumped Justin's as he passed. "Excuse me," he uttered innocently, continuing on his path.

His body alive with sensation, Justin turned to get a good glimpse of Brian's backside.

. . .

"Doug."

"Brian . . . glad we're finally on a first name basis," Doug laughed, finishing up his sandwich in the employee's cafeteria.

Setting his tray down on the table, Brian fell into the chair next to him. "Well, we're practically family now, aren't we? I mean, with you fucking Emmett and all," he cracked, twisting the cap off his bottled water. "Emmylou's a trip, isn't he?"

"I've never met anyone quite like him," Doug jumped right in, eager to talk about his new guy. "And I've been meaning to thank you for taking me to Babylon . . . not that we stayed very long. Emmett swept me out of there so fast I didn't know what hit me!" Pausing for a second, he took a deep breath. "I'm sure you knew I was nervous. It'd been so long since I . . . uhm . . . but Emmett was-"

"Doug?"

"Yeah?"

"TMI, okay? The last thing I wanna think of is you and Emmett between the sheets." Taking a bite of his side salad and a drink of his water, Brian erased the mental images Doug had scared up. The ones that remained, however, as always, were of his own making and never seemed to stray. A smile involuntarily formed on his face.

"You're thinking about Justin again, aren't you?"

Brian cleared his throat. "What I'm thinking about is my insatiable need to fuck him," he didn't mind admitting, which was a hell of a lot more palatable than the drivel he'd just heard. "And since we're, uh, family and everything . . . maybe you'd be willing to help make that happen?" Brian raised both eyebrows at Doug. "Like, now?"

Grinning back at him slyly, Doug condensed the remnants of his lunch onto his paper plate for easy disposal, aiding and abetting two people who obviously wanted to spend time together not a problem in his book. He couldn't resist having a little fun at Brian's expense, though. "As in you know I'm getting ready to punch out for the day, and you need me to cover for you for . . . what? About twenty minutes?"

"Jesus! You're killing me, here!" Brian groaned. "I need at least an hour. Preferably two. All I'm scheduled for this afternoon is back-to-back Yard Watch shifts, and if you don't let The Licker and his gang out, it'll be a walk in the park. The others are docile and just happy to get their hour of fresh air."

"You know the break rooms and guard stations are all in use today. Where're you planning on holding this love fest?"

Brian dropped his fork, more than certain the offending phrase had triggered his unpleasant acid reflux. "Listen, Doug. Are you listening? That word is not now, never has been, and never will be in my vocabulary. There's no need to use it around me. Ever." Draining his water bottle dry, he attempted to put out the fire in his esophagus. "Isn't there an empty cell somewhere in an isolated block?"

"Why don't you just take him to solitary confinement? The Licker's stint was up yesterday. I'm pretty sure it's empty," Doug told him. "And no bars on the door, genius."

Getting up to throw their trash away, they shared a laugh. "Good point," Brian conceded. "Solitary's the perfect spot."

Doug glanced at his watch as they left the cafeteria. "So I clock out, take your Yard Watch shifts, and no one's the wiser, huh? Anything else I can do for you?" he joked, knowing Brian would return the favor.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact there is. Just don't break his heart. Emmett's. He's sensitive like that."

"Not planning on it."

. . .

Marching his line of prisoners in front of The Licker's cell, Doug took great pleasure in his cellmate joining them - almost as much as he took in informing The Licker that he needn't bother. "Not you. Outside's closed for you and your crew," he tossed off, struggling not to gloat. "Tomorrow's not looking good either."

He made eye contact with Brian as he lingered at the end of the next corridor, unlocking Justin and Eric's cell to let Eric into the line. "Hang on, Justin," Doug said compassionately, holding his hand up when Justin tried to follow his cellmate out. Not locking the door, he led the line away.

Right, Justin thought of the highly unusual behavior. Bait me so I'll make an escape attempt. Grabbing his sketchbook, he flopped down on his bunk and thumbed through it.

Brian waited until Doug had taken his charges out into the yard, then he made his way down to Justin's cell. "Feel like taking a walk?" he asked, sliding the door open.

Leaping up, Justin pieced together Guard Williams's odd actions, restraining himself from throwing his arms around Brian's neck. He couldn't leave his cell fast enough when Brian gestured for him to come out and follow him.

"Wanna fuck?" Brian asked, walking away with Justin at his side.

Justin's head snapped up. "Where? When? Now?!"

"I'll take that as a yes," Brian laughed.

Blushing, Justin nodded. "I want to."

"I have a couple of hours before I need to get back on duty, and we have a cell all to ourselves."

"We do?" Justin smiled widely.

"Doug - uh, Guard Williams - reminded me that the solitary confinement cell's empty, and he's covering my Yard Watch shifts."

Justin thought for a moment. "Did you fuck him to get him to do that?"

"No. I introduced him to my friend Emmett. Apparently, they hit it off."

. . .

Justin's hands roamed Brian's body as he kissed him, unhooking the nightstick from his belt. He winked at him, then slid it up and down his thighs and between his legs. Dragging it across his balls and the outline of his cock, Justin pressed it into the head.

Leaning on the door, Brian spread his legs a bit to give Justin better access, enjoying the feeling for a while before he took the stick from him and made a tight tunnel with his fingers. Passing it through them, he smiled when he saw Justin's eyes fixated on it, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed. "Lie down," he said, throwing the stick aside and palming the bulge in his pants.

Watching Justin remove his shirt, unzip his jeans, and lie down, Brian stood over him with his fingers on his own cock, slowly freeing it from his pants. He opened Justin's legs and sat down between them, running his hands along his chest. Pinching his nipples, he bent down and licked them.

Straddling his chest, Brian held his cock up to Justin's lips till he opened his mouth and licked its head. He saw his tongue circle around and then stab into the slit, grunting when Justin pulled back before taking it in again, sucking it hard. Gently pushing his hips forward, he fed more of his dick into Justin's mouth, one hand behind his head, urging him on.

Justin swallowed around Brian's cock, tasting his precum oozing out. Snaking his hands down his pants, he massaged Brian's ass cheeks and rubbed his crack.

Taking a deep breath, Brian sat back and pulled his cock out of Justin's mouth. He bent down to kiss him, enjoying his own taste on his tongue. "Take your clothes off," he whispered, his face buried in Justin's neck, inhaling his scent.

Justin wiggled out of his jeans as Brian stood up to undress, his eyes never leaving Brian's hard, smooth body. His fingers itched with the need to touch him, to dig into his skin, to feel his muscles under his fingertips.

When Brian sat down on the bed, his legs fell apart and he started to jerk his cock. Inching closer, he rubbed it along Justin's inner thighs, around the base of his cock, and against his balls. Then he went back to his cock, grinding their heads together, moaning when Justin's precum made him wet.

Justin lifted his legs, hooking them around Brian's waist. Raising his ass up, he begged Brian to touch him, to take him. Fingers digging into Brian's thighs, he enjoyed the warmth of his body.

Rolling on a condom, Brian ran his cock along Justin's crack, Justin gasping and stroking himself quickly when Brian stopped right outside his hole and put a little pressure on it.

"Fuck me, Brian. Now!"

Reaching for the lube, he poured it directly onto Justin's hole.

"That's cold!" Justin hissed.

"It'll heat up." Brian slipped just the tip of his finger inside Justin's ass. He smiled when Justin squirmed to get him further inside. "Do you need more than this?" he teased him. "Something longer and thicker? Something that will make you cum, untouched?"

"God, yes! Brian, please. I need you inside me," Justin almost sobbed, pushing his ass into Brian's hand. He moaned when Brian added one more finger, stretching him a little. "Not enough."

"Do you want me to fuck you with the nightstick?" Brian watched Justin writhe on the bed, his pale body perfect under his.

"No, I want you." Justin reached for Brian's cock and jerked it hard a couple of times, his hips still pressing against Brian's fingers as they fucked him.

Pulling away from him, Brian took a firm grip on his own cock and sank deeply inside of Justin with one long thrust. Falling down onto him, he kissed him. "Your ass is perfect. I could play with it for hours."

"Yes!" Justin shouted when Brian pulled out and roughly slammed in again, burying himself down to the hilt. "Do it again!" He stabbed his tongue into Brian's mouth. "Harder! Fuck me harder!" he growled. Molding his body against Brian's, he didn't leave an inch of space between them.

Fucking him with long, hard thrusts, Brian hit his prostate every time, Justin's cock trapped between them, scraping against their bodies. When Brian sped up, Justin couldn't hold back any longer, coming in a long orgasm.

. . .

Justin flopped onto his side, facing Brian, his hand skimming continuously over his body. "What happened?" he asked when his hand sneaked down to Brian's balls, tracing his scar with a fingertip.

Brian tensed, answering after a minute. "I had cancer."

"Are you okay now?" Justin kissed him tenderly when he nodded. "Good."

Looking down at him, Brian thought it was refreshing to be with someone who didn't need to know every detail about everything.

"Roll over," Justin whispered, Brian hesitating a few seconds before he complied. Climbing onto his back, Justin lay down, nuzzling his neck and nibbling at his ear. "How often do you fuck inmates?"

"Never."

"Never?"

Brian shook his head, Justin aligning his cock in between his legs and rubbing it over his ass cheeks, pushing it against his balls. He felt it grow hard against the small of his back.

"I miss fucking," Justin sighed, his hips pressing down into Brian's ass.

Brian twisted his neck to look at him. "I don't bottom."

"It's okay." Justin smiled when Brian relaxed, parting his legs and stroking his inner thighs, over his ass. Bending forward, he kissed his spine, licking his way down to his crack. He paused slightly to give Brian a chance to tell him to stop, then pulled his cheeks apart, tasting him on his tongue. Justin lapped over Brian's hole again and again, not stopping til it was dripping wet.

Trying to hold still, Brian felt his hips circle the sheets beneath him. He drove his cock into the mattress at first, then changed his mind and reared backward when just the tip of Justin's tongue slid inside of him.

Gripping Brian's hips, Justin held him still while he fucked him with his tongue, his own cock hard and wet and begging for attention. He sat up and jerked it, his knuckles hitting Brian's ass on every upstroke while his other hand wandered over Brian's crack, his thumb gently bearing down on his hole.

"Justin," Brian moaned, pushing back against it. Rising up on all fours, he began to jerk himself off.

Inching even closer, Justin dragged the head of his cock over Brian's ass cheeks, marking him with his precum. He shot his load onto his back the very second Brian came on the bed. "Jesus, that was hot!" he laughed, drying Brian off with his shirt.

Both of them falling down to the bed, Justin rested his head on Brian's chest as their racing heartbeats gradually slowed. Collecting his thoughts, he pulled the blanket up around them, hoping Brian wouldn't mind if he asked about something that had been on his mind. "Daphne told me you took her to meet your friends."

Thinking back to the previous Sunday, Brian's face broke into a tiny smile. "Well, it wasn't exactly my idea," he said. "Debbie invited her to dinner, probably leaving her no choice but to say yes. I just gave her a ride."

Justin glanced up at him. "Tell me about Debbie. About all of them."

His arm finding its way around Justin's shoulders, Brian drew him in closer. "Debbie's my best friend's mother. She works at the diner on Liberty Avenue, and Mikey owns a comic book store. I practically grew up in their house. Ben is Mikey's partner. And Emmett . . . he's Doug's new obsession. He's currently a party planner, but before that, he was a porn star."

"A porn star?"

"Fetch Dixon. Ever heard of him?"

"Sure! I can't believe you know him."

"And then there's Ted. He likes numbers."

"What?" Justin laughed.

"He's an accountant at heart, but he owned a porn site for a while. The same one that Emmett worked for. And finally Carl – Deb's partner."

"They all sound great."

"You'll meet them when you get out of here."

"I will?"

Brian didn't meet his stare. "If you want to," he finally said with a shrug.

"I can't wait."

"Justin." Brian sat up, waiting till Justin did, too. "Carl is a police detective. Daphne told everyone why you're in jail, and I asked him to try and find something on Hobbs. Anything to get to him."

"Oh."

"I just thought you should know he called me a few days ago. Said he's only uncovered a couple of small things so far, like traffic violations and stuff. Nothing worth doing anything about."

Justin lay down again. "Thanks for trying to help, Brian. I really appreciate it, but it's no use. Hobbs is never going to pay - really pay - for what he did to me."

"Don't say that. We don't know what'll happen yet. Carl's gonna keep digging. Something could still turn up." Dusting his hands lightly along Justin's body, he wanted to make everything okay.

"Don't stop touching me." Justin closed his eyes.

Watching him drift off, Brian saw no harm in letting him sleep for a couple of minutes. Neither of them awakened until Doug knocked on the door an hour later, breaking it to them that it was time to return to reality.

. . .

"What are we doing here?" Jennifer whispered to Daphne, following her into the Liberty Diner.

"I told you . . . I want you to meet someone, and this is where she works." Smiling at a man who brushed past them, Daphne noticed Jennifer trying her best not to gape at the sundress he wore.

"Hi, honey!" Kiki recognized Daphne. "I have a booth just for you. And who's this lovely lady?" she asked when they sat down.

"This is Jennifer, my best friend's mother. Is Deb in today?"

"Of course! I'll get her for you right away." Kiki turned on her heels, promptly yelling toward the kitchen, "Deb, company!"

"Daphne!" Debbie called out. "And you must be Justin's mom," she said, stopping in front of their table.

"Uhm, yes. And you are?"

"Michael's mom! Debbie Novotny."

Jennifer cast a sidelong glance at Daph, clearly needing help.

"Michael's best friend, Brian, works at the jail," she said before handing the honors back to Debbie.

"Brian's like a son to me," Debbie beamed proudly. "And now he's dating your son!"

"He's what?" Jennifer stared at both of them. "Justin's in jail. He can't date anyone. Daphne, can you explain this?"

"Brian's one of the guards at the jail. Justin met him on his first day there. And I wouldn't really call it idating./i They're just getting to know each other."

Debbie patted Jennifer's arm. "You'll like him. He's very handsome."

Daphne grinned at Debbie. "Justin told me Brian's helped him so many times. He's trying to make his time in jail easier for him. He gave him a blanket!"

"He didn't have a blanket?!" Jennifer's voice faltered. "I'm sorry, but I still don't understand. This Brian is a guard, he decided to take care of Justin, and now they're sort of dating?"

Daphne and Debbie nodded at her.

"I guess it's good to know he's got someone on the inside caring for him. But how do you two know each other?"

Daphne sat back and took a bite of one of the lemon bars Kiki had brought them, telling Jen how she'd met Brian first and then Debbie and all about the dinner with Debbie's family. "I thought it would be nice for you two to meet!"

"Brian's a real sweetheart," Debbie didn't hesitate to throw in. "I'm happy he's finally met someone, even though he'll deny it."

"Why would he deny it?"

"Because he doesn't do boyfriends."

"Oh."

"Justin's the first guy he's actually talked about with me. He's special!"

"Okay." Jen took a sip of her coffee. "It's just an awful lot to take in."

Debbie patted Jennifer's arm again. "I need to get back to work, but it was nice to meet you! I'm looking forward to getting to know you better, and you've got to meet my family. You'll love them!"

Jen smiled when Debbie went back into the kitchen. "She's really interesting."

"Yeah, she is," Daphne laughed. "And you will love her family. I know you will."

. . .

Brian walked into Woody's, not sure if the guys would be there. Not even sure he wanted to meet them if they were, he was about to turn around and leave when a tangerine-colored shirt and pair of purple pants caught his eye. He couldn't help but smile.

Emmett's flame never burned brighter than it did when he was in love. Giggling at something his new boyfriend said, he batted his lashes and took a sip of his pink drink.

"Doug!" Brian forced himself in between them. "Can't get enough of me at work?"

"No . . . I mean yes. I'm here with Emmett," he laughed.

"Don't worry, honey," Emmett assured him. "Brian's fucked everyone. It wouldn't be the first time I've dated a guy he's had."

Doug stared at Emmett. "It's not like that! I've never . . . no, not him!" he protested loudly, Brian just shaking his head and ordering a drink.

"Are you okay?" Mikey didn't like the stressful look on his face as he slid into a chair next to Ben and him.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"That's not an answer. Are you okay?"

"Yes!" Brian glared at him over the rim of his glass. "I'm just tired," he took a deep breath and explained when he saw the hurt in Mikey's eyes. "I've been working a lot of overtime in the last couple of months."

"I bet you have." Mikey grinned at him.

"Justin was beat up by a jailhouse gang not too long ago. I'm trying to look after him so it doesn't happen again."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Why? It's not your fault." Brian pulled Mikey in for a quick kiss, then he nodded at Ben and grabbed his drink. "See you guys around."

Combing Woody's for someone to take his mind off of things, he stopped himself when he realized he was looking for the one man who wouldn't be there.


	6. Chapter 6

LOCKUP MY HEART - CHAPTER SIX

Justin studied Eric's hand closely as it dangled from the side of the top bunk and then turned his trained eye back down to the sketch pad in his lap, so lost in the adjustments he was making to the pencil and parchment drawing that he hadn't even noticed his audience of one peeking through the door.

Quietly admiring the artist's skill, Brian purposely waited before calling attention to himself. He smiled when both cellmates looked up, Justin abandoning his project and racing to join him.

"I'll leave you two alone," Eric mumbled after observing the pair standing motionless on either side of the bars for quite a while, the attraction between them almost palpable. Turning towards the wall, he gave them a small measure of privacy.

"Are you working extra shifts again?" Justin was the first to speak.

Avoiding the question with one of his ever evasive shrugs, "One hour left, then I'm off for the weekend," passed for Brian's response. Checking over his shoulder, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I just wanted to . . ." His hand crept through a small opening when he trailed off, gently stroking Justin's arm.

"I'm glad you did," Justin said softly, he and Brian both relieved when Doug happened to walk by, choosing that very moment to start arguing with the inmates in the next cell. "I can't believe I've been in here four months already. Thanks for trying to make it easier on me," he told Brian freely, grateful for the commotion going on. "I'm so fucking happy The Licker stopped harassing me!"

Brian skimmed his thumb across Justin's cheek, then he turned his head and grinned mischievously at Doug.

"What?"

"Well, we kind of took care of that problem. Your licker's been very busy the last few months, what with all the floors and toilets in this place he's been scrubbing . . . the time in solitary we've recommended to the warden that he do . . . having his outdoor activities severely curtailed . . ."

Justin's eyes widened. "No!"

"Yeah," Brian said proudly. "He has to pay for what he's done."

"Brian." Doug walked over after extending the ruckus with Justin's neighbors as long as he could, urging him along.

"Later," Brian murmured, his fingers caressing Justin's face before he followed his friend away.

"Later."

. . .

"Hey, you look really good, Justin! You look . . . well, happy!" Daphne gushed as he sat in front of her and held his palm up to the glass partition. Responding in kind, she took a seat. "So what's up? You're getting out early or something?"

Smiling because she was right, Justin did feel happy. "No, they're not letting me out early. But it's not so bad in here anymore. I can actually see myself waking up from this nightmare, you know? Not too much longer and it will all be over."

"I can't wait! I've missed your cooking so much! It'll be great to remove Domino's Pizza from my speed dial. Just think of all the parties we can throw, and-"

"Jesus, Daph! Chill, okay?" Justin laughed. "I just want to put my life back together. No bells and whistles. No fanfare. Just get back to normal and forget about the past six months. You know what I mean?"

Feigning profound disappointment, Daphne remembered something from home she'd been saving up to tell him. "Oh, guess what? I was talking to your mom the other day, and she told me your dad paid all the back child support he owed her for Molly. She couldn't believe it, since he'd been insisting for so long that she'd never see a dime of it. But one day he just showed up and . . ." She cocked her head to one side when Justin's wrinkled forehead halted her news bulletin. "What's wrong?"

Justin struggled to stay positive, determined not to give the mention of his traitorous father the power to dampen his spirits. "That's awesome for my mom and Molly," he told Daph. "They've been counting on that money for a long time, and I'm glad he saw fit to live up to his responsibilities. But," he added in the next breath, "that doesn't wipe out the bad blood between my dad and me." Squaring his shoulders, he wrangled his hurt back into its deep, dark hiding place.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry I brought him up."

"Unless I suddenly develop an attraction to the opposite sex, he's gonna keep hating me until the day he dies." Justin emitted an audible sigh. "I wouldn't even be in here if he hadn't . . ." Choosing to leave that thought unfinished, he lumped the newest offense on top of the old heap and shoveled it all away.

Daphne checked her watch, taking note of the guard closing in on Justin from behind. Kicking herself for reopening the wound, she mustered a tenuous smile. "So, I'll talk to you soon . . . like maybe Friday when you use your phone call to check in with your best friend?"

"Sure, Daph. Talk to you Friday. And don't worry. I'm not gonna let venting about my dad wreck my good mood. Not today, anyway. Thanks for coming," he managed to get in before his visiting privileges were terminated for the week. Daphne seemed okay, he thought, but he knew she still had a hard time seeing him locked up. Rising from his chair, he watched her walk out of the visitor's area just as the guard grabbed him by the arm and pointed him towards the door.

"I'll take it from here."

Surprised to see Brian leaning against the doorjamb, Justin held his breath when the guard hesitated for a second and then handed him over, Brian barely waiting until his colleague had left the room to close the door and inch him backward.

"Who came to see you?"

"Daphne. She's really-" Justin laughed when Brian's mouth crashed down onto his, the kiss rough and wet. "Brian!" he gasped, playfully fending him off. "What about the cameras in here?!"

"They only make it hotter," Brian panted, holding his arms and pinning him against the surface of the table. Rubbing their bodies together, he dove down towards his mouth again, plunging his tongue between his lips. "Christ! I can't wait to fuck you in public! At the baths . . . in Babylon's back room . . . in the alley outside of Woody's . . ." Hands roaming over Justin's chest, he snaked them beneath his clothes and down towards his crotch.

Trying to pull away, Justin stopped him once more. "You can't fuck me in here, Brian!"

"Stop worrying," he groaned, his face buried in Justin's hair. "The cameras are turned off when visiting hours are over."

"Oh. But maybe we shouldn't do it anyway. I can hear people walking by right outside the door."

Brian forced himself to let go. "God, you're chatty."

"Sorry," Justin giggled.

"No, you're right. We need to behave. So, Daphne was here?"

"Yeah. She's really anxious for me to get back home," he said, straightening his shirt and buttoning his jeans.

"Two more months, huh?"

Justin nodded. "I can't wait to get on with my life! I've gotta call my clients the day I get out of here and see how many of them are still willing to work with me. I'm afraid Daphne will kick me out if I don't cough up my share of the rent that's been accumulating."

"It'll be fine," Brian assured him. "It'll all work out. You'll see." Planting one last kiss on the side of Justin's face, he opened the door and led him out. "We should get you back before someone misses you."

. . .

"Would you shut the fuck up already?" Justin ranted at his fellow inmate out in the yard. "I've had enough of your harassing!" Shoving him to the ground in one swift move, he left him flat on his back as he turned away, nearly smacking head-on into Officer Williams with his next step.

Gripping his arm firmly, Doug walked him away. "Hey, you've got to be careful, especially now when your sentence is almost up." He glanced down at the fallen man and just shook his head as he wallowed in the dirt, laughing hysterically at Justin. "Can't you avoid the nutjobs like him?" he asked, loosening his grasp. "What happened?" .

Justin took a deep breath. "You're right. I didn't think. I tried to ignore him, but he kept following me around, making lewd innuendos. He switched to harmless conversation every time we came near a guard, but I just snapped when he started implying things about Brian and the other gay inmates. I know it was stupid. It felt great, though!"

"I'm sure it did," Doug laughed. "But still, you can't let assholes like him make trouble for you. And just to be clear, Brian is not fucking every gay inmate he comes across."

Justin smiled. "Brian told me you're dating his friend Emmett."

"Yeah. He's amazing!" Doug blushed. "I really like him."

"I hope I'll get to meet him someday."

"Of course, you'll meet him . . . as soon as you get out."

"You think so?"

"Listen," Doug became serious. "Brian's working his ass off to make sure you're okay. I don't think he'd be doing that if he weren't planning to keep you around when you get released."

. . .

"Oh my God! You really did use your one phone call this week to check in with me?" Daphne squealed. "I'm honored!"

"Hey, I said I would, didn't I? Besides, hearing your voice makes me think of home," Justin told her. "If I close my eyes, I swear it feels like I'm right there in the apartment with you. All I have to do is stay out of trouble for a little while longer, and I'll be out of here. I'm counting the-"

"What?" she shrieked into the phone, suddenly overcome by a healthy dose of panic. "What do you mean, stay out of trouble? What the hell's going on in there this time?"

"Nothing to get excited about. Some asshole started dissing Brian, and it really pissed me off. I overreacted and, well . . ." Justin didn't need to finish, his best friend reading him, for better or worse, like a book. He gathered easily from her uncharacteristic silence that she was trying to wrap her head around her worst fear. "Come on. Just say it."

"I don't even want to think it, but I have to ask. You're not still in the Pink Posse, are you? Still avenging every wrong with physical violence? Because the Justin I know isn't like that. You can't-"

"Relax, Daph!" he cut her off, appreciating her honest concern. "The Pink Posse is dead and gone to me. I know how foolish I was to ever get involved with them in the first place. I promise you, that phase of my life is a thing of the past."

Sighing in relief, she almost laughed. "Good! 'Cause I've gotta say, you've had way better ideas in your lifetime than that dangerous one!"

"Trust me. I know. I've learned the hard way that I can stand up for myself without using deadly force." Justin smiled at Brian as he stood a few feet away, officially eavesdropping on his call. "Well, my time's running out, Daph," he said. "Say hi to everyone for me, okay?" Hanging up, he only hoped that word of his earlier scuffle had reached Officer Kinney's ears, some form of private punishment certainly in order.

. . .

"Hi, sweetheart. Just stopped in to conduct a little business." Carl gave Debbie an affectionate peck on the cheek, ducking into the diner just as a light mist had begun to fall outside. Brushing the moisture from the arms of his trench coat, he eyed two very tempting lemon bars under their glass cover on the snack bar.

"Don't even think about it," Deb warned. "Last time I checked, they weren't on your diet. So, this business . . . does it involve a low-cal lunch with your lovely partner? Because I was just about to take my break."

"Afraid not, honey. It's police business. I came in to meet with Brian, then I've got to get back down to the station." Spotting him in the back booth, Carl smiled at Debbie, artfully dodging the dreaded fish and kale.

"Hey, Carl. Thanks for calling me." Brian tossed the newspaper down on the table next to his coffee cup. "Getting ready to nail the bastard?" Grinning deviously, he could practically smell the sordid details.

"You mean Hobbs?" Carl shook his head as he sat down. "Nothing on him yet . . . just the moving violations I told you about. Apparently, he's got a lead foot behind the wheel. Been written up for exceeding the speed limit three times in the last two years." He watched Brian's face fall. "Sorry. Speeding's the only thing on his record, other than a few unpaid parking tickets. We can't put him away on that."

Disappointment seeping from his pores, Brian understood why Justin felt so defeated. Maybe Hobbs never would pay for what he'd done to him, he realized, the unsettling thought nagging at his brain. "You took time out of your busy day to come down here and tell me the best your boys can do is send his ass to traffic school? That's depressing."

"Not nearly as depressing as what I really took time out of my busy day to come down here and tell you." Hesitating for a short time, Carl scouted around to make sure Deb was in the kitchen. The last thing he needed was for her to come swooping in with one of her over-the-top anti-homophobia tirades. Lowering his voice, he leaned forward. "I did some probing into Justin's court case, just to see if I could get a lead on Hobbs from the evidence presented against him. You said he beat him to within inches of his life?"

"Yeah," Brian nodded, not sure where Carl was going. "I've seen the scars on his head."

"I heard Daphne describe the incident that time she came to dinner with you, so I was thinking Justin's lawyer might have focused on it as the main issue. Might've tried to get him off by turning the tables and highlighting the beating as the cause of the assault."

"Didn't he?"

"Didn't have to. The gun wasn't loaded. Justin used it to scare Hobbs, then he dropped it on the ground and walked away. Hobbs didn't have a scratch on him. He got up, went into his house, and that was the end of it. The assault charge was thrown out of court."

Brian's eyes and face suggested he wasn't following. "So . . . Justin gets six months in county jail . . . because why?"

"Well, his whole case centered on the theft of a firearm, but it sounds to me as if that turned out to be a dubious accusation at best. The records clearly indicate that Justin retrieved the gun from Hobbs's yard and brought it back to his father's house, yet his old man called the cops when he got there and had him arrested on the spot. Reported that he broke in and stole it."

"That's false," Brian said quickly. "Justin had been inside earlier that night because he'd gone over to talk to his dad."

"I know. His defense attorney argued vehemently that he'd merely borrowed the gun after being let in, fully intending to return it. And here's where it gets ugly, Brian." Carl dragged his palm across his forehead. "When the detectives found no signs of a break-in and were holding the recovered gun in their hands, Justin's father was offered the opportunity to drop the criminal charges. The case could have been reduced to a family discrepancy and never gone to trial, but the arresting officer testified that Craig Taylor wouldn't budge until his son had been handcuffed and thrown into the back of the cruiser."

"Jesus!" Brian sputtered, a gulp of coffee trickling down the wrong pipe. "And I thought Jack was an asshole!"

Carl pretty much agreed with that assessment of the man, virtually stunned as to how any father could be so heartless. "It's all water under the bridge now," he said sadly. "Just thought you'd want to know."

"Thanks." Brian's gut churned, he and Carl both starting when the first lightning strike crackled over the diner. Gazing through the window up front, he didn't even see the heavy sheet of rain pouring off the awning onto the sidewalk. Fucking hell, he cursed to himself, Justin's dad taking his rightful place alongside Chris Hobbs on his shit list.

Detective Carl Horvath raised his collar to brave the weather. "I'm no judge or jury," he told Brian, adding his own two cents' worth as he stood to leave. "But I personally feel that Justin's innocent of any crime here. Damn shame how things turned out for him."


	7. Chapter 7

LOCKUP MY HEART - CHAPTER SEVEN

Brian tossed restlessly in his bed, the silent, still-black morning at odds with his nervous energy. Wondering if the sun intended to make an appearance at all that day, he shifted onto his side and read the time: 4:30 a.m. Falling back to sleep surely not going to happen, he reached for the lube and sneaked a hand beneath the duvet much earlier than usual, his fingers wrapping tightly around his hard-on.

Kicking the cover off, Brian opened his legs, rubbing the high grade lubricant over the head of his cock and down his shaft. Jerking himself off to images of Justin - out of jail and easily fuckable within a matter of hours - he groaned when he thought of spreading his cheeks and sliding inside his perfect ass.

Precum oozed from Brian's slit, visions of Justin's hot mouth and tongue flooding his mind. He squeezed harder and arched his back, his whole body rigid as his cock exploded, milky ropes of cum shooting up onto his stomach.

. . .

Pulling into the Allegheny County Correctional Facility's parking garage an hour ahead of schedule, Brian stopped by the release department to make certain everything was in order and then clocked in, giving Justin enough time to finish half his breakfast before falling into their well rehearsed routine. "Back to the cell for you!" he barked, yanking him up and roughly towing him to privacy.

"Brian, you're early. You're not supposed to be here until nine." Justin sat on his bunk after playing along, perfected grimace and all, gesturing for his personal guard to join him. "Please don't tell me there's a problem. I can't take it if anything got screwed up."

Taking his hand, Brian leaned in to kiss the side of his face. "No problem whatsoever. I've seen for myself the warden's John Hancock on the dotted line. You'll be a free man by the end of the day. What?" he tacked on when Justin's expression barely changed. "You're gonna miss this luxurious accommodation? I know . . . you're gonna miss that dishwashing job. That's it, isn't it?"

Justin finally cracked a smile. "I didn't mind the dishwashing job. It kept me busy. It's just that it's hard to believe my sentence is really over. I think my brain won't let me go there until I actually step foot off these grounds."

"Well, you can tell your brain," Brian glanced at his watch, "it's got nine hours to psych up for the trip. You'll have paid your debt to society for borrowing your dad's gun without telling him, and your feet will be free to carry you off these sorry grounds."

Justin raised one eyebrow. "I do hear my life calling," he reasoned. "We're all set with Daphne. I talked to her last night. She said she'll be home from work around four." He kissed Brian's lips, lingering until the din of returning inmates pried them apart. "Thanks for doing this."

Brian locked the cell from the outside. "Just call me your social worker."

. . .

"Hey, you found it! Come on in, Brian." Daphne clasped his arm when she answered the door, drawing him over the threshold. "So today's the big day!"

"Yeah, he's done his time. His nightmare's over," Brian said, looking around the apartment Justin shared with his best friend. "He told me you wouldn't mind getting some of his things for me to take?"

"Sure. I'll only be a few minutes. Do you want a soda or something?"

Brian shook his head. "No, that's okay. Thanks."

"Go ahead and sit." Nodding toward the sofa, Daphne disappeared down the hall into Justin's bedroom and gathered some of his jeans and tee shirts along with a few toiletries from his bathroom. "This should be enough," she said when she came back, handing Brian the bag she'd packed. "Enough clothes to hold him while he's . . . how did he put it? Getting himself together before he jumps back into his old life? Yeah, that was it."

Glossing over her facetious remark, Brian stood up and hoisted Justin's bag over his shoulder. "He just needs a few days to ease into things, that's all. I said he could stay with me while he works it all out."

"Oh, right . . ." Daphne nodded playfully. "If that's what you guys want to call it." She hesitated only slightly before adding her expert observations. "You're really falling for each other, aren't you? I think it's great that you want to spend some time together alone as soon as Justin's free."

Brian's shrug was automatic, although his wry grin suggested he'd been busted. "Well, if you're done analyzing us, I guess I'll be on my way." He reached for his keys in his pocket.

"Oh, I almost forgot! He wants his work stuff."

Watching her walk over to a large drafting table in front of the dining room window and carefully sift through its drawers, Brian pictured Justin sitting there taking advantage of the natural light while he drew. "Thanks," he said, taking his work planner and the charger for his phone from Daphne when she held them out. "I'll see you later."

"Hey, I didn't say there was anything wrong with it." Daphne followed him to the door. "It's Justin's life, and he has a right to put it back together the way he wants to."

. . .

Eric watched Justin collect his meager belongings from his half of the cell, wishing he were the one who'd be out of there in less than an hour. "So what's next for you?"

"I'm gonna spend a few days with Brian . . . just soak up the peace and quiet and get started on rebuilding my company."

"If you ever need any help with money, I'm your guy."

Justin laughed outright for the first time that day. "Thanks, but I think both of us should try to stay out of jail in the future."

"Okay, Taylor!" Doug's voice cut in. "Time to leave." He unlocked the door, standing to one side.

Turning back to his cellmate, Justin shook hands with him before he stepped out. "Look me up when you get released. You've been a good friend."

"I just talked to Brian," Doug said, locking Eric back in. "He's waiting for you outside." Guiding Justin through a labyrinth of long corridors and countless corners, he delivered him to an office in the administrative annex. "This is where you get the clothes you came in with and your personal effects returned to you," he explained.

Justin filled out a form to receive his turtleneck sweater, black dress slacks and shoes, wallet, keys, watch, and cell phone, items that had been stored under lock and key for six months. Clutching his clothes in his arms stirred thoughts of the last time he'd taken them off, the intense anger he'd felt under the circumstances nearly blinding him. He smiled when he remembered how he'd discovered Brian, his imagination running wild with scenarios of what life would be like for them outside of the county jail.

"You change in there," Doug told him, pointing to a closet-sized room across the hall. Following him in, he tried his best not to gawk while Justin undressed, prison regulations specifying that a correctional officer be physically present at all times during the release process. "Are you ready for the final stop on your good-bye tour?" he asked, tossing the discarded uniform into a bin outside the door.

Signing document after document, Justin didn't even mind when the second truckload was shoved in front of him. He felt like hugging Doug in appreciation when the glass doors finally parted, but he simply nodded, the exit being heavily patrolled by armed law enforcement who looked as if they'd be spurred into action at that sort of thing. Breathing in a lungful of brisk evening air, he walked away from the building and straight into Brian's arms, spotting him leaning against his car in a remote section of the parking lot.

"Nice to see you in your own clothes." Brian stared at his ass. "You look seriously hot in these pants."

"And yet I can't wait to take a shower and put something else on. How'd it go with Daphne?"

"According to plan, with no snags. Your bag's in the car." Brian swept an arm toward his black Jeep Wrangler. "Ready?"

Justin glimpsed over his shoulder at the jailhouse one last time, the idea that he was truly free starting to sink in. "Fuck, yeah."

Escorting him off the premises, Brian drove in silence to give him some space, only venturing, "Are you okay?" when he'd been staring blankly out the window for several minutes.

"It's . . . a bit overwhelming."

"It's not like you've been in there for years." Brian reached out, running his fingers through Justin's hair.

"Yeah, I know. But still." Justin turned to face him. "I've wasted six months of my life . . . all because of my dad."

"You know how I feel about that. Shitty way to treat his own son."

"I've lain awake plenty of nights, plotting my revenge to get back at him." Justin gnawed on the side of his thumbnail. "You know what I decided on?"

Brian winced, almost afraid to hear what he'd cooked up.

"I'm officially done with him. From now on, I don't have a father. No phone calls, no contact, no nothing. He's out of my life forever."

"You're a wise man, Justin Taylor."

"Wow! This is amazing!" Justin raved, giving the loft a thorough once-over. "I love what you've done with it. You must have worked a lot of overtime shifts to afford something like this."

"It's nothing special," Brian shrugged, the touch of pride in his voice not lost on his temporary roommate.

"It is special. It's yours."

"Uhm . . . your place is nice, too." Recoiling when Justin started to walk around and check things out, Brian wondered what the fuck was so great about this guy that made him say things like that.

"It's small and cluttered with our stuff, but it's my home . . ."

Brian turned to see him standing in front of the naked guy painting when his voice trailed off, his fingers tracing gingerly over the canvas.

"I like this. It'd be too much for most apartments, but it fits in here perfectly. It's fun to look at, and buying it says a lot about you."

Grinning behind Justin's back, Brian figured he'd come pretty damn close to getting his question answered. He followed him up the steps, taking in his awed reaction when he laid eyes on the bed. "Wanna try it out?" he asked, his arms weaving their way tightly around Justin's chest.

"Of course!" Justin twisted around in his arms, smiling up at him. "But . . . can we get something to eat first? And . . . about that shower . . ."

"That way," Brian said, pointing him towards the bathroom. "I'll call out." Not sure whether or not he'd want some privacy after months of showering with other inmates, Brian took his time ordering Thai food, finding a few other ways to stall, too, after he'd hung up. When he finally made his way toward the bathroom, he paused against the door frame, admiring Justin's pale body through the steamy glass. Hot as hell! he thought, Justin's back toward him and his head tilted up, a stream of water dribbling down between his nipples.

Justin turned when Brian stripped and joined him. "That feels so good," he moaned, Brian leisurely lathering his back and shoulders, both reveling in the fact that they needn't rush things for the first time since they'd met.

Dropping to his knees behind him, Brian eased Justin's legs apart, rubbing the soap on his ass and down his crack. He smiled as Justin reared back into his hand. When he gently fondled his balls, Justin bent forward and rested his forehead against the tile, Brian spreading his cheeks and licking long swipes around his hole. Gliding his hands up Justin's legs and around his hips, he grasped his already hard cock and jerked it.

"Brian!" Justin shouted, but Brian was everywhere, his hands, fingers, and mouth making him crazy. He closed his eyes as Brian worked a finger inside, relaxing to feel every sensation. "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that," he muttered, his hips starting to rock back and forth.

Eventually Brian took a deep breath and stood back up, flipping the cap on the shampoo bottle open. "Want me to wash your hair?" he asked softly.

Justin leaned backward against his torso. "Please," he sighed, Brian's soothing fingers massaging his scalp exactly what he needed. Allowed nothing but two-minute lukewarm showers during the previous six months, the blazing torrent raining down on them ran a close second. Gripping Brian's cock, he felt it filling even more in his palms.

Brian fucked Justin's hands, his lips and tongue all over his neck. "Fuck, I can't wait," he growled into his ear. Pushing him closer to the wall, he rolled a condom down his dripping cock and slid it along Justin's crack. "Are you ready?" he whispered.

Separating his feet widely, Justin steadied Brian's cock against his hole. "Take me."

Pressing against the opening, Brian slowly inched inside, one arm around Justin's upper body and the other bracing himself against the shower wall. "Feels incredible," he mumbled, kissing his cheek when Justin entwined their fingers. Grabbing his cock again, he squeezed and tugged on it, fucking his hole with long, quick stabs. "So hard, Justin."

"I'm gonna cum." Justin's body quivered, his dick drenching Brian's hand.

Ramming his cock deep inside one last time, Brian froze, his cum shooting into the tip of the condom.

"You're really good at that," Justin said a few seconds later.

"I know." Brian carefully pulled out, turning him around and hugging him tightly. Dragging him back under the spray, he removed the condom. "Food should be here soon," he said, kissing his mouth and the side of his neck.

Justin molded himself into Brian's body. "I'm so starving," he grinned up at him.

"Christ, Mikey! Can't you mind your own business for once?!"

"I just asked how you like living with him; you don't have to bite my head off."

Brian trained his eagle-eyed gaze around Woody's, trying to scope out a decent-looking prospect. "I like it just fine, okay?" he snapped at Michael, finally zeroing in on an unfamiliar face.

Gulping down the rest of his beer, Brian absently steered the trick toward the men's room, his mind lost in thoughts of arriving home from work earlier that night and finding Justin in the kitchen - cooking for the third evening in a row. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the meals. He did, yet an inexplicable compulsion had led him past his houseguest and straight to the shower. Emerging in fresh clothes, he'd muttered, "I'm meeting Mikey. Later!" He doesn't need a babysitter, he'd told himself on his way out, fairly certain Justin would use the time to continue to contact his clients in an attempt to restore his business.

Brian smiled, recalling how he'd eagerly opened his work planner the first night out of jail. They'd sat on the sofa with their takeout, Justin scanning its pages, deeply in thought.

"What if they don't stay with me?" He'd suddenly laid his fork down, giving in to a brief moment of self-doubt. "I'll have to start all over again."

Brian had stroked his hair lightly. "You did it once. You can do it again."

Watching his dick sink into the anonymous ass he'd picked up, Brian pictured Justin in the loft patiently working through his to-do list, the words of encouragement he'd offered just what he'd needed to hear.

Chris Hobbs and his rowdy friends prowled around the downtown area of the city at dusk - drunk, but not enough. Craving more alcohol, he pointed to a bar on their right and headed in. A cocky smirk crept across his face when they followed, always being in control fueling his giant ego.

Staggering out an hour later, he walked confidently in front, bragging about the girls they'd bought drinks and made out with. He stopped short when he realized how far they'd strayed, the glitz and glitter of Liberty Avenue holding some sort of perverted fascination for him.

"You guys go on," Chris heard himself say, other plans suddenly floating around in his inebriated haze. "I'll . . . see you later." Catching sight of the queers swarming between clubs as if they owned the world, a need to finish the job he'd started months before burned in his gut.

The first blow came when the cute young twink moved in to kiss him, his knuckles connecting with the side of his face in a sickening pop. How simple it had been to step onto the street Pittsburgh's fags called home and win his attention, the unsuspecting horny kid winking and waving at him in a matter of seconds. Without hesitation, Chris had gravitated toward him and introduced himself, skimming his hand down his chest for effect. The ease with which he'd lured him into the nearest alley had him sprouting a cheshire-like grin, conveniently serving to mask how uncomfortable he'd felt at being pulled much too close on their jaunt.

Now he held him up with one hand after he'd stumbled in dizzying pain at the wholly unexpected right cross, beating him into a bloody mess with the other. Tragically, there'd never be enough rapid jabs in the universe to untangle Chris's knotted emotions, seeing in the terrified blue eyes illusions of another fair-haired boy: one who'd jerked him off years earlier and incited his inner turmoil.

. . .

Detective Horvath's heart rate sped up when he heard the report of a beating on Liberty Avenue. He prayed it wasn't someone he knew. Or someone Deb knew. Thinking of Michael dropping by to visit them just hours earlier, dressed up and elated that Brian had called and wanted to hang out, he couldn't stand the idea of seeing him hurt . . . of seeing any of Deb's boys hurt. More importantly, he knew she wouldn't survive it. Rushing to the location of the incident, Carl's racing heart broke in half as he pulled into the alley and witnessed a veritable madman leveling the final strike to his victim's head, kicking him relentlessly when his body slumped to the ground. He radioed for backup and an ambulance then leapt out of the car and ran toward his perp.

His fists covered with the homo's blood, Chris pictured himself contracting AIDS and dying a gruesome death, but at that exhilarating moment he felt it'd be worth it. Bolting to make an escape, the endorphin-induced high engulfing him swiftly faded, Carl's uniformed officers screeching their squad car to the scene from the opposite end of the alley in record time and slamming him to the pavement before he knew what hit him.

"Cuff him and read him his rights," Carl rasped. Approaching the much too-still form where it lay, he'd been on the force long enough to know it was too late. Checking for a pulse, he shook his head mournfully, another senseless hate crime he'd never understand.

Wresting the killer up to a standing position, Carl maneuvered him until he was bent over the hood of the black and white, not minding much as his forehead bounced with a thud. "You got a name?" He motioned for one of his cops to fish the wallet out of his pants, preferring to kneel at the dead boy's side until the ambulance arrived.

"Here it is, Detective. Got his I.D. right here."

. . .

"Better now?" Mikey laughed when Brian strode out of the restroom and reclaimed the bar stool next to him.

"Much." Brian gave him a peck on the forehead. "What a relief to get away from your incessant questions for ten minutes."

Happy to finally have Brian all to himself, Mikey ordered them two more beers. He promptly went into the plot of his favorite comic's latest issue, looking forward to spending some time with his best friend. "Now what?!" he whined when Brian's phone rang in his pocket.


	8. Chapter 8

LOCKUP MY HEART - CHAPTER EIGHT

Brian left his bar stool and made his way to a relatively quiet corner of Woody's when he read the name on his phone's display. "Kinney."

"Brian, it's Carl."

"Is Deb okay?" He glanced back to the crowded bar, ready to whisk Mikey to his mother's side.

"She's fine. It's Hobbs."

"Hobbs?!" Brian gasped. "Hold on, Carl. I can barely hear you." His heart palpitating in his chest, he slipped outside to get better reception. "Okay, tell me."

"He did it again. But . . . it's worse this time. He killed an innocent kid, Brian."

"Fucking piece of shit!" Brian's mind immediately turned to Justin and how he'd tell him . . . what he'd tell him. Rather panicked, he prayed that he was safe in the loft, just where he'd left him. "The kid?" Brian asked solemnly. "He's not . . . Ju- ?"

"No," Carl sighed. "That's not his name."

"Please tell me you got Hobbs."

"We did. I heard the report of a beating in progress over the radio, but by the time I pulled up onto the scene it was too late. I was too late. He'd just punched the last breath out of the poor guy. I couldn't . . ."

Brian easily read Carl's sorrow. "You're sure it's him?"

"Christopher Hobbs. Male Caucasian. Twenty-three years old."

"Yeah, that's him." An eerie calm swept through the air.

"He's on his way down to the station right now."

Hightailing it over to his Jeep, Brian flung the door open. "I'll meet you there," he said emphatically, hanging up on Carl and his useless protests.

. . .

"Where is he?" Pushing his way past the desk sergeant, Brian burst into Carl's office. "Where is the fucker?"

"I can't let you in there. You know that."

Brian inhaled deeply, attempting to channel some self-composure. "Just . . . do everything right. Don't fuck this up."

One of Carl's policemen walked past him and dropped a stack of reports on the desk. "I'm sure we can get a mug shot and fingerprint him without fucking up."

Stifling the urge to let the simpleminded cop know just where he could shove his attitude, Brian turned back to Carl. "You book him, and then he sits in County while he waits for an arraignment?"

"That's how it works," Carl nodded. "He'll be up on Murder One charges. Should be an open and shut case. Looks like we got him."

Relief overtaking him, a glint shone in Brian's eyes. "Take care, Carl. I have some . . . pressing business."

. . .

"Hey, you two! Wake up!" Brian and Doug entered The Licker's cell, flipping on the lone light bulb that hung from the ceiling and stirring the inmates from sleep.

"More toilets?" The Licker groaned into his pillow, his eyes still closed.

Doug shook his cellmate and waited for him to sit up, then he took a clean plastic trash bag from his pocket and unfolded it. "Come on. Get your things. I've got another cell with your name on it."

Taking the bag from Doug, the groggy guy filled it, not comprehending what was happening. Relocating away from his disagreeable cellmate wasn't necessarily the worst thing that could happen, though, he thought, leaving without a second glance back when the guard motioned for him to follow along.

"Now then," Brian addressed The Licker, pulling the cell's rickety chair out of the corner and perching himself on it next to his bunk. "You and I are gonna have a little chat."

"Found another filthy floor in some long forgotten closet that needs scrubbing?"

Brian dragged his palm across his chin. He'd had a long day, and the night was far from over. "The toilets and floors are spotless, thanks to your middle-of-the-night cleaning sprees," he started. "I have another job for you now, and I have every confidence you'll carry it out with the same attention to detail you've given all the crappers in this place."

Skewing his face, The Licker fixated on Brian with a sidelong stare, wondering what the fuck was up. "Another job?"

"Hey, I think you're gonna like this one. It's got to do with your new cellmate, who'll be gracing you with his presence as soon as he gets through Intake. We recommended that your old one be moved to a different cell as a reward for tolerating you all this time. I mean, putting up with you is no picnic, right?"

The Licker sneered, proud of his reputation.

"So we've freed up the bunk in here just for this new asshole. We can't think of another individual to pair him with who can make his stay with us more wretched. I've seen your work," Brian added. "It's stellar."

Not one to take a compliment lightly, The Licker raised one shoulder. "I try."

Brian stood up and set the chair back in its corner. "Good. Then we see eye to eye. Unfortunately, County's but a stopover on his long road to the big house. But let's show him a good time while he's on trial for murder, shall we?" Letting himself out, he locked the cell.

"Murder? You're gonna lock me up with a murderer?" Beads of sweat broke out on the petty thief's forehead.

"You'll be fine," Brian assured him through the bars on the door. "Just do what you do best . . . cause torment and misery to all who cross your path."

. . .

Thinking that Justin would be asleep, Brian quietly let himself into the loft. He and Doug had waited another two hours for Chris Hobbs to be processed, volunteering to see the new inmate to his cell the moment he stepped into his drab jailhouse uniform. Not satisfied until he'd been entrusted into The Licker's capable hands, Brian finally convinced himself to call it a night - despite the fact that dawn was already breaking. Unwinding at last, he smiled when Justin's head popped up from the sofa.

"Get lucky last night?" Justin grinned back at him, turning off the TV. "You didn't come home. Tell me all about it!"

Brian reached into the fridge for a bottle of water and then sat down next to him, taking some time to gather his wits. Procrastinating while he tried to find the words to explain the night's events, his thoughts were cut short when Justin stood up.

"You want me out of here, don't you? I completely understand. You're not used to having anyone live with you." His upbeat manner didn't fade, nor did his grin. "It's okay. I'll pack my things right away."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Brian's genuine surprise stopped Justin in his tracks.

"I just thought maybe you were bored with having me here."

"Of course, not! Can you just sit down and listen?"

Justin nodded, sinking back into the couch cushions, Brian's demeanor tipping him off that things would somehow be different after he'd said his piece.

"I've been at work all night. I'd gotten a call from Carl while I was out with Mikey. He'd . . . just arrested Chris Hobbs." Falling silent right then, he waited for Justin's reaction.

"Arrested Chris? What'd he do?"

Weaving his arms around him, Brian wished he could shield Justin from what he was about to say. "He killed a guy."

"He . . . killed a guy?! How . . .? Who . . .?" Horrified, Justin felt momentarily suffocated. "Who was it?" he choked out, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

"I don't know. Carl had never seen him before. He beat him so badly he died from blunt force trauma to the head."

"Was he gay?" Justin took Brian's hand, squeezing it tightly.

"Probably. It happened in an alley right off Liberty Avenue."

"He'll go to jail for it, right?"

"Jail's only the beginning," Brian said. "He'll end up in the federal penitentiary for a very long time."

Justin literally couldn't speak, the shock almost too much to bear. "It could have been me," he uttered when the ability returned.

"Don't say that. Don't even think it. It wasn't you! You got your revenge, and now he'll get his punishment for hurting you."

Clinging together, both men grappled long and hard with their emotions, not only in regards to the unspeakable crime that had hit too close to home but in dealing with their increasing feelings for each other as well. Brian kissed the side of Justin's head after a few minutes, fearing they'd suddenly morphed into a couple of lesbians. "You need to get naked."

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to take a shower, and I expect you to be ready for me when I get out."

"Oh." Justin held on even tighter and poked his tongue between Brian's lips, kissing him deeply. "You worked an extra shift for me once again," he whispered at the end of it. "Thank you."

. . .

Brian wrapped a towel around his slender hips and padded out of the bathroom, Justin waiting for him on the bed wearing nothing but a halfhearted smile. "Don't think about it," he said, sitting beside him and throwing an arm around his shoulders. "You just got your life back. Don't let him ruin it for you again."

"He killed someone."

Dropping the towel to the floor, Brian pulled Justin into the middle of the bed with him and arranged the sheet on top of their naked bodies. "Come here." He rolled on top of him, kissing his mouth and combing his fingers through his hair. "Everything'll be okay," he hummed over and over, trying to soothe him.

Justin moaned when Brian carefully nipped at his neck, licking down his chest and over his nipples. He felt his cock start to harden and double in size as Brian opened his legs and sat between them, stroking it until it became wet.

Jerking himself a few times, Brian rolled on a condom and lubed it up, then he propped Justin's legs on his shoulders and slid the head of his cock in, slowly rubbing him from the inside. He heard Justin's heavy breathing when he bent forward and softly kissed him, stilling to let him adjust.

Justin wound his legs around Brian's waist and pushed his ass into him, setting a slow rhythm. Groaning loudly, his head fell back as his long, strong fingers worked on his cock. "More! Deeper!" he cried when he tried to rock faster and Brian held him in place with a firm grip. "Yes! More!" he panted seconds later as Brian inched a bit further inside.

"Not yet."

"Brian!" Justin begged. "I need more."

Easing back out, Brian merely grinned when Justin hissed at him. He stroked their cocks together for a while, Justin arching his back in pleasure. Gazing down at him, Brian thought he looked beautiful with his closed eyes and red, swollen lips. "Incredible," he muttered, gliding inside his tight ass again. Finally speeding up, his cock hit Justin's prostate on every thrust.

"Faster! Don't stop, Brian. Please, don't stop!" Justin grabbed his own cock and pumped it as Brian leaned in and sloppily kissed him, both of them coming hard with their flesh fused together in one sweaty mass. "That was great," he sighed when he caught his breath, stretching his legs off of Brian's shoulders.

"Amazing," Brian agreed, burying his face in Justin's neck and breathing in his musky scent. "I guess this would be as good a time as any to let you in on a little secret. You know that vile creature known as The Licker? I think you'll be happy to hear he's gonna babysit Hobbs for us while he calls the county jail home. Just happened to be an empty bunk in his cell and everything! Can you believe it?"

"No!" Justin dissolved into laughter. "I'm sure you had nothing to do with it."

"Me?" Brian feigned blamelessness, combing his fingers through Justin's hair again. Suspecting that maybe everything really would be okay - in more ways than one - he found it difficult to stop.

. . .

"I've talked to every one of my clients now, and only a few of them wanted out of their contracts. A couple of them couldn't give me an answer right away, but at least they didn't say no. I've got meetings lined up with a lot of them to discuss possible work projects." Justin came up for air, excited to report such good news to Brian on their drive to Debbie and Carl's. "I wasn't expecting so many of them to stay with me."

"See? I told you not to worry, didn't I? Putting your business back together is gonna seem like child's play compared to what you're up against tonight," Brian wisecracked. "Don't say I didn't warn you about these people!"

Justin laughed at the idea of meeting the family Brian had described as certifiable on more than one occasion during the week and a half they'd been living together. "I think it's great that Debbie wanted to have this thing at her place," he said. "My mom started talking about having a welcome home dinner for me when I still had a month to go on my sentence. I guess she and Debbie have become pretty close."

"Heaven help us," Brian deadpanned, parking in front of the house where he'd spent most of his teen years with Mikey. "Are you ready for this?" he asked, slinging an arm around Justin's shoulders as they climbed the steps to the porch. "We can leave right after we eat if you want . . . maybe go to Babylon or Woody's and get drunk, just the two of us."

"Sounds fun." Justin squeezed Brian's hand. "We can use that as an escape plan if we need one."

Every eye turned toward the front door when Brian let himself in, Justin still encircled snugly under his arm. Glancing around at all the new faces, Justin felt like a deer caught in the headlights until he spotted his mom.

"Hi, honey!" Jennifer rushed over and hugged him for an eternity, the phone conversations they'd had since his release nice but nowhere near as satisfying as being able to touch him once again. "I'm so happy you're here!"

"I'm happy I'm here, too." Justin kissed her cheek. "Thanks for doing this."

"I hardly did a thing. Deb's a great cook, and Daphne took care of the decorations."

"Mom, this is Brian," Justin said quickly, smiling up at him. "I think you two have seen each other before . . . on visiting days?"

"We have. Great to finally meet you, Brian." She extended a friendly handshake.

"You, too, Mrs. Taylor."

"Daphne's told me how much you've done for Justin. I'm so grateful he had you to take care of him in there." As painful as it was to consider the past six months, Jennifer couldn't help but notice that her son had made a seemingly flawless connection with the corrections officer, Brian's fingers alternately skimming up and down his back and playing in the hair at the nape of his neck while the three of them stood and talked.

Michael took in the scene from where he and Ben sat on the sofa, his partner asking what was wrong when he shook his head from side to side. "Oh, nothing . . . it's just . . . look at them! Talk about soul mates!"

Ben laughed. "Yeah, I noticed."

"Uhm, prepare for a thousand nosy questions," Brian whispered in Justin's ear when he saw Debbie crossing from the kitchen toward them.

"Sweetie! It's so good to meet you!"

"Deb, you need to let go. He can't breathe." Brian took hold of her arm and rescued him when the crushing bear hug she'd enveloped the guest of honor in threatened to cut off the circulation to his head.

"Thanks for throwing me a dinner party, Debbie," Justin said after the introductions had been made.

"Don't mention it! I love to have everyone gathered together, and this is a special occasion, right?" Beaming proudly, Debbie acknowledged the people scattered around her living room and kitchen. "You've got to meet everyone! That's Teddy, the sweetest man you'll ever know," she got the ball rolling, pointing to the guy on the couch next to Michael and Ben.

Ted waved, he and Justin exchanging pleasant smiles.

"And you already know Doug," she continued.

"Taylor! Uh . . . I mean Justin." Grinning from ear to ear, Doug dragged his boyfriend over. "This is Emmett."

Justin eyed the most colorful person he'd ever seen, shaking hands with him and introducing himself .

"The pleasure's all mine," Emmett drawled. "It's because of you that we met. He's such a sweetheart," he added, winking at Doug.

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Justin couldn't quite bring himself to call Guard Williams by his first name. "He's always been very kind to me, and he's certainly gone out of his way to give Brian and me some space," he told Emmett. "He didn't have to do that."

"I saw no harm in helping you guys out," Doug said. "Six months is a long time. Oh, this might make you nostalgic for your old cell block. The last thing I heard before I left work today was Hobbs screaming at The Licker to keep his fucking tongue away from his ears and his hands out of his pants!"

Rousing laughter erupting from everyone, Brian followed Debbie into the kitchen, good old prison humor breaking the ice and instantly putting Justin at ease.

"And somehow I can't feel bad for him," Justin giggled. "Well, for either of them. They deserve each other," he added, Carl walking up right then and introducing himself. "Thanks for arresting Hobbs," he told him in all seriousness.

"I was just doing my job."

"Of course," Justin said a little stiffly, never so happy to hug Daphne as he was when she appeared by his side at that very moment. "I don't want you to worry," he told her. "I'm gonna make double rent payments to you until I repay every cent of what you got stuck with while I was in there."

Daphne kissed his forehead. "It seemed as if you wanted to run away from Carl," she whispered, carting him off by the arm. "Let's go talk to Michael and Ben."

"Brian said he's okay, but I had no idea how to talk to him. That was just weird."

"He's really nice when you get to know him."

"It's so strange that you know all these people because I was in jail."

"I told you something good might come out of what you did!" Daphne squeezed Justin's arm as she introduced him to Deb's son and his partner.

"We've heard a lot about you," Ben said.

"Brian's talked about me?"

"No. Daphne has."

Justin blushed. "How did I not see that one coming?"

"Hey," Michael smiled at him. "Brian's here, and it doesn't look like he wishes he were anywhere else. That's kind of a big deal."

"It is?"

"It is," he and Ben assured him.

Looking on as Justin got to know their family, Debbie and Brian thought he fit right in. "He's cute!" Deb declared, bending to check a casserole dish in the oven.

"Cute?" Brian wrinkled his nose. "He's not five."

"How old is he?"

"Twenty-three. You think he's too young for me?" Brian asked when she'd grown contemplative.

"No. Actually, I think you two look great together. Does he make you happy?" Debbie smiled when Brian shrugged and left her in the kitchen. Knowing a shrug was far from a 'no,' she wanted nothing more than for her other son to finally find contentment.

Justin's eyes lit up as Brian came toward him. Rising from the sofa, he made a beeline for his arms and stayed there while Brian lifted his chin, tilting his head up to kiss him deeply. He only took a step backward when Brian's fingers worked their way under his shirt and lightly stroked his stomach before creeping around his hips, the ensuing silence in the house droning in his ears.

"Come back." Brian hauled him in again. "Maybe they'll go away if we ignore them," he muttered against Justin's mouth, grinning when he felt him nod. Inching them into a corner, he wasn't about to let go. "They're not used to . . . I haven't . . . uhm . . ."

"They're not used to seeing you with anyone?"

Brian gave an affirmative grunt and kissed him again, Justin starting to laugh and angling to get away as his body began to respond.

"Okay, you guys," Mikey intervened just in time. "Dinner's ready."

"I miss you so much at the apartment," Daphne said to Justin as everyone took a seat at the table, her best friend placing himself comfortably between she and Brian. Leaning close to his ear, she spied Brian's hand resting on his thigh. "But I'll understand if you don't want to come home," she whispered, "since you've found the world's hottest guy . . . who's apparently crazy about you."

Justin hit her on the arm. "I'll move back soon. I just needed some time to recover."

"You needed some time to get laid."

Brian had to laugh, overhearing the banter. "I can see why you like her," he told Justin, who merely smiled at both of them.

Thanking Debbie again at the end of the meal, Justin excused himself and headed out back for some fresh air, Brian close behind.

"Hey!" he called after throwing on his jacket and taking a couple of long strides to catch up. Feeling around in his pockets, he came up empty, planting himself on the back steps next to Justin. "I gotta ask Doug if I can bum a smoke. He keeps cartons in the trunk of his car, you know. Does a thriving business with the inmates."

"I've seen it. Your friends and family are really nice!"

"I know."

"Emmett and Williams are adorable together."

"According to Doug, Emmett's great in bed."

"Gross!" Justin laughed. "No one seems to mind that you're dating an ex-con."

"We're not . . . you're not . . ." Brian glared at Justin's amused expression. "Shut up!"

"Well, I am one."

"They all know why you were in jail, and they think you're really brave."

"Yeah, they told me. I'm happy they don't have a problem with it."

"Are you cold?" Pulling him close, Brian kissed his lips.

"No. Not at all." Justin grinned as Brian ignored him and shed his jacket, draping it over his shoulders. "I talked to Daphne about going home." Growing quiet for a bit, he continued when Brian kept mum. "I'll pack my stuff tomorrow. The few days we talked about me staying with you have turned into more than a week now, and I'm sure you can't wait to have the loft to yourself again."

"No need to hurry," Brian mumbled, his mouth on Justin's head. Wrapping his arms around him, he held him tightly.

Drawing a deep breath, Justin's need to know was stronger than his fear of pushing Brian away. "So . . . you want me around?"

"For a long time."

"Let's take it slowly, okay?" Justin visibly relaxed, everything falling into place.

"That sounds perfect."

THE END


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